


somewhere in between lightning

by jassy117, nauticalleeds, shiningdistractionwrites



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reality Show, Angst, Baker Harry, Exes to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Happy Ending, Love Island, M/M, Miscommunication, Pining, Sexual Tension, Summer, also they go fishing, harry owns a bakery called sunflower bakery guys, honestly niall only attracts irish women in this fic, law student louis, niall is trapped in a love triangle between two irish girls, side Ziam, there is also a spa scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:40:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 99,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24569413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jassy117/pseuds/jassy117, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nauticalleeds/pseuds/nauticalleeds, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiningdistractionwrites/pseuds/shiningdistractionwrites
Summary: As Louis took another bite, he thought back to how he had once believed that the hardest thing about being on Love Island would be Liam handling his social media.He had been wrong. It was Harry Styles, peeking over at Louis as he forked a pancake into his mouth, and gauging his reaction. It was having to quench the swelling of his heart, which felt simultaneously like hope and the breaking of a thousand pieces.---A summer gone wrong (or very right) when, under Liam’s persuasion, Louis finds himself drunkenly applying for Love Island, and getting accepted. Oh, well. A summer spent on an island paradise couldn’t be all that bad, right?Imagine his surprise when Louis arrives in sunny Majorca to find that his first love and ex-boyfriend, Harry, is another contestant, about to capture the hearts of everyone in the villa. Most normal people don’t have to face their ex on an otherwise straight TV show. Most normal people don’t fall for their ex again in front of the whole nation, either. Too bad this whole situation isn’t normal.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 95
Kudos: 943
Collections: One Direction Big Bang Round 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> remember my summer exchange fic last year where i had mentioned that my best friends finally became larries and ended up beta-ing my whole fic? well, we ended up writing a whole damn 100k fic together. WHO WOULD'VE THOUGHT. this fic came into fruition after last summer when jasmine and i went through breakups within the same week, holing ourselves in her house with love island and mojitos for a whole week. it was actually a very comical time. never thought we'd be admitting this on ao3, but 100k later, here we are. 
> 
> writing a 100k fic with another person isn't easy. now try writing a 100k fic with three people where most discussions are over video call. in between madison's move across the country and back, applications for grad school, and a whole fucking pandemic, we have slaved over this fucking monstrosity for way too long.
> 
> nevertheless, we present this to you with blood, sweat, tears, and a lovely 18 years of friendship. (shall i mention that the whole reason that this fic happened is because madison and i were trying to convince jasmine to write a fic, and the only way to do that was by proposing a "friendship fic"?) 
> 
> thank you so much to the talented and patient [anna](https://wadey-wilson.tumblr.com), who made the most lovely gifset and art for this big bang. we loved seeing every creation and were so honoured to work with you :') and thanks to [sharon](https://tommosgun.tumblr.com), who saved our asses night after night. you are the best. thank you for your dedication and your patience, we would not be here without you!
> 
> title from seasons run by the xx.

__

_Seeking a cast of hot young singles who will be looking for a summer of love and romance in the seventh season of "Love Island UK”._

_"To survive in the villa the Islanders must be coupled up with another Islander, whether it be for love, friendship or money, as the overall winning couple receives a cash prize._

_On the first day, the Islanders couple up for the first time based on first impressions, but over the duration of the series they are forced to "re-couple" where they can choose to remain in their current couple or swap and change. We are looking for a diverse group of likeable people with big personalities. Singles aged 18-29.”_

  
\---  
  


As someone who drunkenly belted out the entire Moana soundtrack on more than one occasion, Louis knew that Liam had a tendency to be a drama queen sometimes. So in all honesty, Louis wasn’t too surprised to find a plethora of missed notifications at the end of his work day. 

But twenty text messages and three missed calls was a lot, even for Liam. Whatever it was, it must have been bad. Even though Liam’s definition of bad was usually the equivalent of something as banal as spilling his coffee. 

_Lou. omggg Lou pls answer ur phonee._

_Please something happened at work._

_:(((((_

_Fuck_

“You heading out already?” asked Lisa, drawing Louis’ attention away from his confused concern for his best friend. Well, he could get back to Liam later. Hopefully he wasn’t in the hospital. If that had been the case, Louis was sure that the texts would’ve been written in capital letters. 

Louis nodded, tucking his phone into his pocket. “Yeah, I guess that’s it for me,” he replied, giving his desk a final onceover. 

He would miss this desk — it represented the past two years of his life, after all. Even though some didn’t enjoy the frenzied paralegal lifestyle, Louis had loved all of it, from staying up late to prepare for major court cases, to drinking the revolting sludge-like coffee that came from the communal kitchen. It was almost sad to think that he wouldn’t have the chance to drink it again until he finished his postgraduate law degree. 

Louis was grateful that Cowell LLP had been willing to sponsor his legal practice course in Manchester, even though this meant having to find a replacement. He couldn’t help but feel rather smug when the firm realized that they would need to hire not one, but two paralegals to replace him. 

After having worked at the firm for two years, it felt kind of strange for Louis to be abandoning the life that he had built to begin a new one. But becoming a solicitor had been his dream from the start. He needed to move on. Working as a paralegal had afforded him enough money to rent out a small flat in London, but ultimately, if things worked out, he hoped to work somewhere closer to home. Closer to his mum, and to the girls. 

“Well,” Lisa said, giving him a warm smile, “good luck with everything! Heading back to school sounds fun.”

“If fun means countless nights of staying up, then I’m sure I’ll have a blast,” Louis told her, drawing a laugh out of his colleague, or more accurately, soon to be ex-colleague.

Several others in the office stopped by for their own farewells — some who were quite familiar to Louis, and others he had only spoken to once or twice. He appreciated the gesture nonetheless. It was nice to be missed, but the certainty of knowing he would return meant that Louis didn’t feel _too_ sentimental about his departure. 

He’d been given the option to stay with the firm all the way until September, of course. And although it had been tempting for a moment, Louis had ultimately decided to turn down the offer. Even though paralegal life was a lifestyle he enjoyed, Louis figured that taking a break before his studies was probably the right decision, especially if he had to move from London to Manchester within the span of a few weeks. He was _tired_. He needed some time to collect himself, to see his family again, and to prepare for the onslaught of assignments, readings and exams he would be getting once he started the academic year. 

The sun had begun to set by the time Louis finally made it out of the office, with a box containing the last of his belongings and the leftovers of his farewell cake. He was seated on the tube before he finally remembered to give Liam a call. Hopefully his best friend wasn’t dead in a lake somewhere. That would be just a little bit _too_ dramatic for Liam. 

“ _Louis,_ ” came a distressed groan once the call connected, accompanied by a slight rustling in the background. Liam was probably leaving work, too. “Today was bad. Today was _bad._ "

Louis adjusted his things on his lap, making sure the cardboard box wasn’t poking the other passengers next to him. Rush hour in London called for overcrowded spaces and not-so-nice glares at anyone who dared to take up more space than was absolutely necessary. He was lucky to even have secured a spot. 

“With a job like yours, Payno, I don’t know how every day could _not_ be bad,” Louis pointed out dryly. Liam’s job as a talent scout was a recurring joke that Louis often pestered him about, despite the fact that Liam actually _liked_ what he did. How, Louis didn’t know, especially with the type of people Liam was constantly dealing with. 

“I embarrassed myself today,” Liam continued, ignoring Louis’ comment. Liam seemed to be in such distress that Louis took mercy on him and didn’t counter with a ‘but aren’t you already an embarrassment on your own’ type of joke. 

“What happened?” Louis asked instead, allowing sympathy to win this time. It sounded like Liam needed it. 

“I can’t — I can’t even talk about it,” Liam mumbled, sounding as if he was already trying to suppress the memory. “We’ve got to go out. I need to forget about everything.”

A few drinks didn’t sound like a bad idea. Simultaneously consoling his best friend _and_ celebrating the last day of his job? It would be hitting two birds with one stone, really. Besides, Louis and Liam really hadn’t gone out in a while. 

Checking his watch, Louis quickly estimated his location. “You feeling up for The Sweet Lilac tonight? I can be there in an hour.”

“The Sweet Lilac?” Despite his seemingly miserable situation, Liam’s tone was amused. “You’re really bringing it back to our roots, aren’t you? Do you think the dusty jukebox will still be there?”

Ah, the dusty jukebox. A relic of their university years. 

“Only one way to find out,” Louis said, wondering if he could play Elvis Presley’s “Hound Dog” twenty times before they’d kick him out again. Surely the bartenders would have changed since then, right? “I’ll drop off my stuff at my flat. Meet you there?” 

Liam made a noise of confirmation before hanging up, leaving Louis free to lean back into his seat. He could use a night out. When was the last time he had gone out, anyway? Maybe a few months ago, for one of his uni mate’s birthdays, but even that had been considered such a rare occasion that Louis couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out when he’d been out past midnight before that. With Louis’ job being as demanding as it was, it was near impossible to go out as frequently as he had back in uni, when he’d been able to occasionally ignore his homework and party until sunrise. 

It felt strange, the concept of no longer being tied down to the office. From now on it was just him, his box full of stuff, and his last few months of freedom before uni began in the autumn. So, yeah. A night out was a good choice, a good way to begin the summer. 

A summer which, despite his intention to kick back and relax, Louis had admittedly not planned yet. He wondered if he was supposed to have made any sort of arrangements already. That was what people did, right? Normal people, that was. The ones who didn’t work themselves to death on the regular. Last season had been too busy for Louis to even think about a trip, much less organize one. If anything, he was normally content to take a quick trip back to visit his family in Doncaster and fill the rest of his time with binge-watching whatever was popular on TV.

Now that he finally had time to breathe, maybe he would consider travelling beyond his hometown. He did have a handful of months, after all. A trip sounded nice. A holiday. Maybe somewhere tropical.

But tonight, drinks and Liam were a priority. Let the freedom begin.

\---

Several hours and way too many shots later, both Louis and Liam were certifiably drunk. Distantly, Louis knew that he would regret this in the morning. He would have a hangover, most likely. But right now, he was having too much of a good time making fun of Liam. 

“It was seriously _so bad_ ,” Liam moaned over his second beer. “I don’t think I can ever look him in the eye again. Ever.”

Right. They were still talking about Liam’s crush, the new assistant producer at work. A few weeks ago, Liam had come over to Louis’ and spent the majority of an hour (or four) rambling about how his new co-worker had the most beautiful cheekbones, the longest lashes, et cetera, et cetera. Louis would have offed himself right then and there if Liam hadn’t decided to thoughtfully buy him dinner as well.

“S’what actually happened?” Louis slurred, gesturing towards the bartender for another drink. Liam’s face turned more red than it already was. Ha. Yes, Liam was his best friend, but it was way too fun, making Liam’s face turn different shades of crimson every few minutes. All it took was for Louis to mention whatever embarrassing event had happened to Liam earlier that day. The event which Liam had not yet fully explained, despite his constant complaining.

“I told you, I don’t wanna talk about it,” Liam muttered, pressing his cheek against his glass in an attempt to cool down. The bar was warm, way too warm, humid and filled with happy drunk people who were having a great time. Louis had missed this.

The bartender arrived with a new gin and tonic, which Louis gratefully accepted. “At least he’ll be out of the country soon, ‘cause he’s filming and all that. Can we talk about something else, please? Like how shitty work is in general.” 

“How is talking about work different from talking about a guy from work?” Louis interjected, but Liam continued on. 

“We can’t find any good contestants this year, Louis. None. Everyone is just as boring as last year, except they’re somehow even less attractive.” 

Louis couldn’t help but snort. Ah, the difficulties of finding young and hot wannabe celebrities.

As a scout for ITV, Liam’s main job consisted of finding overdramatic and loud fame-seekers who would be a good fit for whatever reality show was going to air next, and every spring, Louis had the pleasure of listening to Liam complain about finding _Love Island_ contestants. Louis himself had never watched a full episode of the show, but he knew just enough to deem it a trashy British crossover of _The Bachelor_ and _Big Brother._ Which sounded like a flaming mess, in his opinion, but he knew that his sisters (and Liam) loved it. And while Louis liked shitty reality TV shows as much as the next 40-year old divorcee, he really didn’t think he needed to get obsessed with yet another one — _The X Factor_ and _Survivor_ were more than enough for him, thank you very much.

“Why don’t you look them up on Instagram or something?” he suggested triumphantly. “Social media influencers, there.” Maybe he could get Lottie and Fizzy to help Liam find some people. Louis was sure that his sisters would be more than happy to surf the internet for hours in the name of ‘research’. 

Liam gave him an unimpressed look and opened his mouth to reply with some sort of retort, when his face suddenly morphed into a look of pure glee. 

Oh, God. Louis didn’t like that look. That look was associated with Bad Ideas. Specifically, bad ideas that were born out of drunken nights trying to forget embarrassing moments, prior relationships, or boys with dimples and green eyes. It never boded well for either of them. That look, in particular, had led to their first bar fight together, a couple years ago.

Liam beat him to the punch before Louis could shoot down whatever crazy idea he had. “ _Lou_. Lou. Hear me out,” Liam said excitedly. Whatever Liam had in his brain was making him positively _glow,_ and was there a manic glint in his eye somewhere? Oh god, this was even worse than what Louis had anticipated. 

_“You_ should apply.” 

There was a silence before Louis burst out laughing. And once he started, he couldn’t stop. 

Liam furrowed his brows, but couldn’t stop his mouth from twitching up into a smile anyway. “No, no, seriously, I mean it. Lou. Everyone is so boring, and no one is really unique. Fuck, some of the contestants don’t even have a _real job._ Louis, you could make it, I swear,” Liam argued, eyes wide. “You’re funnier than everyone there, and you would be someone special, you would —”

“I’m gay, Li,” Louis replied, trying to come off as deadpan as possible. He wasn’t sure it worked. Every time he imagined himself dancing to the intro of _Love Island_ in nothing but a pair of swim trunks, he started laughing again. And it was even funnier when he considered the fact that _Love Island_ was based on the idea of boys and girls finding true love on a Spanish island while trapped in a villa. It didn’t even matter that Louis wasn’t straight. How anyone could find _the love of their lives_ on a show like that was beyond him. 

Liam shrugged, not fazed. “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure lot of the applicants are gay anyway,” he replied, smirking. Louis thought about the hairless, tanned men with carefully manicured brows. As the show’s literal talent scout, Liam had a point. 

“It could be fun just to apply.” Liam wiggled his brows mischievously, and _oh God_ , Liam was dangerously set on this idea, clearly. “Plus, Lou,” his friend pleaded, “You’ve been single for a long time. It’s been, what, how many years? Maybe you’ll meet a nice guy on the show, there’s no rules against coupling up with other guys in the villa.”

At Liam’s words, Louis felt his breath catch involuntarily. Liam was too drunk to realize what he was saying, too drunk to stop the words from coming out in the first place. It was a topic that Liam tiptoed around, often. At some point in the past few years, Liam had given up trying to talk to Louis about his previous relationship. 

And Louis didn’t have the sober willpower to keep the images from flooding back into his mind — curly brown hair, dimples carved into his cheeks, a tattoo hidden on the inside of a bicep, bleary green eyes in the morning. As if the memories were fresh as day, rather than from two years ago. 

Fuck, he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about this now, especially after all this time. Alcohol was a terrible enabler. A true foe. 

“We could make it really outrageous,” he heard Liam continue, not noticing that Louis had just spaced out for what felt like an eternity. 

“Outrageous,” Louis echoed, in an attempt to bring himself back to reality. He allowed the alcohol to steer his focus back to Liam’s face, watching as his friend nodded solemnly. 

“Outrageous,” Liam repeated in the same manner. “You could wear… like a really dumb hat.”

“A really dumb hat,” Louis laughed, shaking his head. Most applicants wouldn’t have _dared_ to wear a really dumb hat, would they? “I could wear a party hat.” 

“A party hat with one of those piñatas on it. We could get one from the pound shop next door!” Liam yelled, spreading his arms enthusiastically, and well, they were really considering this, weren’t they? Were they already at the stage where they were planning this whole scheme? A scheme that Louis had yet to agree to. Or had he somehow already agreed to it? Louis’ head was spinning a little bit. Maybe a lot. 

Liam’s words swam in Louis’ mind, pulsing among the noise of the crowded bar. His eyes were gleaming with an air of anticipation that Louis hadn’t seen in a while — not before work had pinned Louis down and fun wasn’t as prominent on his list of priorities. It’s not like Louis _wasn’t_ a fun person at all. He could do fun. It was just that he hadn’t had much time for fun in the past few years. 

But Louis could be fun. He could be fun right now. It was the last day of his successful job, the first day of his summer — or was May still considered spring? Whatever. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted, now. He was a free man. Also, very drunk. 

“It’s only a few pictures, Lou,” Liam added. “I’ll do the rest of the work.” 

Which was why Louis couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Fine. We will apply for _fun._ But only if you buy the next four rounds,” Louis decided, pointing at his empty glass. “And I want a mojito.”

Liam grinned, drunk on tequila, the Embarrassing Incident forgotten. “Deal. Now give me your phone. I need to find good photos of you. And I need your Instagram.”

Louis handed him his phone, typed in the password, and went off to look for the Dusty Jukebox. He was going to play Hound Dog until Liam dragged him home.

\---

Louis woke up feeling like he had been trampled by a thousand dogs. No, a thousand and _one_ corgis. His head hurt, his muscles were sore, and his throat was as dry as the Sahara desert. He vaguely remembered wanting to get as drunk as he used to back when he was still a freshman in uni, and he supposed that now he was paying the price — the only difference was that back then, the price hadn’t been a hangover that felt like death. 

Reluctantly, Louis dragged himself out of bed and fished his phone out of his trousers. It was just past noon, and the sun was bright and shining through the window of his bedroom. Louis hadn’t woken up this late since the day he finished his undergraduate degree. 

After taking a quick piss, he stumbled into the kitchen, quickly swallowing two paracetamols before heading into the shower. Hopefully Liam felt better than he did; even though it was Saturday, he knew Liam would already be back at the ITV headquarters, groaning about how difficult it was to find ‘good’ contestants. Just a week ago, Louis would’ve also been back at work. Waking up late and having nothing to do felt odd.

Taking advantage of his new lack of commitments and the excuse of a headache, Louis put on the latest season of _Survivor_ and promptly zoned out for several hours. 

As the credits rolled for the finale, Louis picked up his phone, automatically going to check for any work emails — it was a habit that he had picked up shortly after he began working as a paralegal, much to Louis’ chagrin. Now that he was no longer working, he’d have to stop doing that. Usually he just got spam emails, anyway.

But what he saw when he finally checked his notifications made everything from last night come back into sharp focus. He read the subject line of the email three times — _Congratulations! ITV invites you to participate in an interview for the 7th season of_ Love Island _(UK)_ — before immediately dialling Liam. 

Liam picked up after two rings. 

“Hello?” his friend croaked, and Louis took a moment to note with grim satisfaction that at the very least, the alcohol was punishing Liam just as much as it had punished Louis. Sometimes it took a night out like the one they’d just had to remind them that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to drink so much, after all. The email sitting in his inbox certainly said so. 

“Li. Payno. What the _fuck_ ,” Louis hissed, keeping the phone to his ear as he opened his email on his laptop. The message was still there, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst all his football newsletter subscriptions. “You signed me up for _Love Island_ last night. They want me to go in for an interview.” 

For a second, Liam said nothing. Then he started laughing, or at least doing something that sounded like laughing. Liam could also have been dying, or dry-heaving, for all Louis knew. Yeah, it would probably take a few more days for Liam’s voice to fully recover.

“Oh, shit,” Liam said in disbelief, words caught in between a croak and a snicker. Despite how ridiculous the whole situation was, Louis couldn’t help but let out a bewildered chuckle of his own. “I totally forgot we sent that in! I didn’t realize they’d respond so fast though, sometimes they don’t even look through the profiles of the candidates I give them.” 

Louis sighed, dropping his head against his desk. He was way too hungover for this.

“You do realize that I’m going to have to decline, right? There’s no way I’m going on that show.” Louis shook his head incredulously, hovering his laptop cursor over the _Decline_ button in the email. 

He didn’t even _remember_ what the application had looked like, and instead had only a brief, hazy flashback of wearing a piñata party hat while Liam excitedly completed some form that seemed to comprise mostly of Louis’ pictures from instagram. Everything else besides that had gone by in a blur. Though, now that he thought of it... Louis _did_ have a vague recollection of Liam typing away furiously on a laptop in his living room after they’d returned from The Sweet Lilac. Louis had promptly collapsed into bed, leaving Liam to submit an application that must have been less than the mess he would have expected from their drunk state. 

Over the phone, Louis could hear Liam hesitate. 

“Or… well, you could go to the interview,” Liam offered after a few moments of deliberation. “Here’s the thing — I know we were drunk last night, but I actually meant it when I said you’d be a great islander. Do you know how hard it is to get on that show?”

“I don’t,” Louis admitted, and wondered if he was supposed to care. Before he could continue, though, Liam was already talking again. 

“Most people don’t even get an interview,” Liam said, sounding a lot more sober than he had five minutes ago. “This is a huge deal, Louis. They saw something they liked about you in that shit video, whatever it was.” Louis refrained from telling Liam that he had actually had lots of practice acting sober when he was anything but. Liam knew that about him already. 

Was Liam trying to convince him? Louis thought his best friend, of all people, would know better, would know that Louis was _not_ reality TV show material. 

“So basically,” Louis said, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling, “you’re telling me that I should accept.”

He heard a sigh of consideration on the other line. “Yeah,” Liam said. “It’s a great opportunity. You don’t have anything to do over the summer anyway, do you?” 

“I do,” Louis said. It wasn’t a lie. 

“You’re going home to Doncaster for a few weeks and then you’re watching TV for the rest of the summer,” Liam supplied. “You told me last night.” 

Damn it. Without hesitation, Liam continued to ramble on like he was delivering a sales pitch. _ITV certainly didn’t hire him for nothing,_ Louis thought. _He’s even got his sales voice on._ “So if you actually get offered a spot on the show — and that’s a big _if_ — you could just treat it as, like, a free vacation or something.” 

Louis’ initial reaction was to laugh. Because, _honestly_. “Li — I’m _gay_ ,” Louis said incredulously, echoing what he vaguely recalled saying last night. “ _Love Island_ is a show for guys to meet _girls_ , which, in case you hadn’t realised, I’m not interested in.”

“And I told you last night that a lot of contestants are gay,” Liam responded just as quickly, sounding a little annoyed. Apparently, drunk Louis and Liam hadn’t been the best decision makers, but they had surprisingly good memories. “Not that it matters, but in season two we actually had one lesbian couple. And that’s not even the point, Lou, you can also think about it this way — almost everyone that goes on the show comes out of it making good money in their first year. Do you really think everyone on the show is that romantic? You could use it to pay for your studies and give the rest to your sisters for their university funds, something like that. I just feel like it’s a lost opportunity when so many of the people I scout don’t even _get_ an interview,” Liam finished, sounding a bit out of breath. 

Fuck. Sometimes, Louis forgot that there was a reason why Liam was a scout for a living. Liam, when he wanted to be, was really damn good at being that scout.

Louis closed his eyes. As the oldest of five, caring for his family had become a priority to Louis. It was hard to resist doing something when ultimately it would help his sisters — all four of them. Louis had plenty of money saved up from his job as a paralegal, but it was always nice to have some more funds in case something happened at home, and his family needed some help out of a tight spot. Or to maybe help pay for uni if his youngest sisters decided they wanted to do that. 

“I hate you,” Louis announced. On the other end of the line, Liam laughed, sounding just a little bit smug. 

“Look, it’s up to you. But it’s just _one_ _interview_ ,” Liam began, sounding as if he was ready to lay out all the reasons for why this interview would be a good idea. Louis promptly hung up on him. His first mistake was listening to Liam rationalize everything in the first place. 

All in all, Louis had no idea why Liam would think he’d even _enjoy_ being on _Love Island_. To spend his summer on a reality TV show, thrust into a villa with strangers to find _true love_? He sank into the couch with an exhale. It was like Liam didn’t even know Louis at all. 

But the thing was, as Louis’ best friend, he _did_ know Louis. Liam had known Louis well enough for the past seven years to know that Louis had worked his arse off, not only for himself, but so that he could support his family, too. Liam knew him well enough to be concerned for Louis whenever Louis worked overtime without taking a break, always chastising him with another one of those _“you need to have more fun in your life, Tommo”_ talks. 

And Louis, in turn, knew Liam well enough to understand that if Liam really thought Louis could make it onto this reality TV show, with his dignity intact, then he was probably right. 

He stared straight ahead, meeting his own reflection in the black TV screen. A disgruntled, tired man looked back at him. In the blurry darkness of the screen, the man in the TV looked like the life had gone from his eyes. 

He was still in his twenties, damn it. Had he always looked like this? Slumped in a chair, jaded at twenty-seven? There had been a time when Louis had had things to look forward to, would have had a packed summer instead of one lousy trip back home. A time when he’d have his calendar booked with events, friends who wanted to see him, people who filled his evenings with laughter. 

Or one person, in particular.

Louis ran his hand over his face, watching the man on the dark, faded screen do the same. 

It was just one interview. One. An interview that might not even lead anywhere. 

Louis skimmed over the email one more time. Then, without looking back, he pressed _Accept_.

Shutting the laptop, he hauled himself up from the couch. Louis reminded himself that the next time Liam slept over at his, he would definitely draw a dick on his forehead. Liam deserved it.  
  



	2. Chapter 2

_“Louis? I swear to God, you better pick up your phone. You do know your voicemail inbox is getting full, right? What’s this I hear from Liam about applying for_ Love Island? _You’re fucking insane. Does mum know? You better call me back or else I_ — beeeeeep. _”_

  
\---  
  


Louis’ headache had mostly subsided by the time evening came around. Or so he thought. For some reason, there was an incessant pounding in his ears that wouldn’t leave. It took a while for Louis to realize that it was, one, not in his head, and two, coming from the front of his flat.

Louis opened the door to find that _Liam_ was the source of the frantic knocking. 

Grinning broadly, Liam shoved two bottles of wine into Louis’ arms, and barged past him into his flat. “We’ve got to prepare for this!” he called, his voice echoing from down the hallway. Louis groaned. He’d texted Liam less than half an hour earlier that he’d accepted the interview. He should have known that that would have warranted this kind of response from his friend.

By the time Louis managed to rearrange the bottles in his arms and close the door, Liam had taken the initiative to find his laptop, enter his password, and… 

“Is that _Love Island?_ ” Louis asked, peering over Liam’s shoulder. The sinking feeling was confirmed as soon as Liam clicked something and a download bar appeared. Sure enough, Liam was pirating what looked like a whole — no, two whole — seasons of _Love Island_ onto his computer. 

In all the years that Louis had known him, he had never seen Liam so eager about something. Louis couldn’t say that he reciprocated the feeling. Before this, he had been ready to spend the whole night watching cat videos on Reddit. 

But ten minutes later, Louis was sitting on his couch, wondering if there was a way to escape the impromptu _Love Island_ marathon that he was about to be subjected to. It didn’t seem likely. 

“So,” Liam said, handing Louis a glass of wine, “we need to watch all of last year’s episodes. Probably the worst year we had, honestly, everyone was so boring, but you need to be _prepared_.” Liam emphasized this last sentence with a sigh, sounding as if he was about to head into battle. Which Louis thought was kind of unfair, given that _he_ was the one about to go in for his interview next week. 

“The thing is, they’ll be filming you basically 24/7, so you need to know what to do so people don’t end up hating you,” Liam said, in a casual manner that made Louis suspect that maybe his friend didn’t understand how _abnormal_ it was to have to prepare for the potential hatred of the entire nation. 

“ _24/7_?” Louis put his phone down. Liam was joking, right? “I thought you said that contestants get days off.”

Liam rolled his eyes, which, fair enough. Louis could admit he hadn’t listened to much of what Liam had said in the past few minutes. “Well, yeah, but that’s like once every two weeks. But you’re not on the show yet, so don’t worry about it.”

As Liam began to introduce all the previous contestants’ biographies on the _Love Island_ website, Louis resigned himself to the fact that cat videos were going to have to wait. He didn’t know anything about the stupid show, and he certainly didn’t know that everyone exclusively wore ugly bathing suits. Louis sincerely hoped that the _Love Island_ season they were currently pirating would download faster. It was a little appalling to see the amount of people posing with their hands in a heart. In front of a neon backdrop, no less. God. Was _he_ going to have to do that?

While Liam continued to spew knowledge about the show in an attempt to prepare Louis for what was increasingly looking like the best way to humiliate himself on live television, Louis felt himself reaching for the bottle of wine. He hadn’t even finished his first glass, but he knew he was ready for his second. There was no way that he could endure this whole night without alcohol. 

But the worst part was when the _Love Island_ theme song began to play. Louis watched in horror as the screen began to show closeups of shirtless men, and a variety of other clips put together into a slow-motion montage. There was a high probability that he hadn’t felt this level of terror since primary school. 

Liam had even opted to play it on his TV, because _“you need to see this show in glorious detail, the laptop is too small, Lou.”_ Louis peered closer. Was there water dripping off the man’s abs? Please, no. 

“Okay,” said Liam finally, pressing pause and turning to Louis. “I think we’ve covered all the basics. Now. Can we start watching? Any questions?” 

Without waiting for Louis’ response, Liam pressed play, resuming the show’s theme song. The dance-pop synth-based tune was even worse when coupled with a slow-motion shot of some snogging. It was probably the worst theme intro Louis had ever seen in his life.

“This is horrible, Liam.” Despite the words, it was impossible for Louis to look away. “Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to start the show with close-ups of wet shirtless bodies?” 

“It’s so bad that it’s good,” Liam said delightedly, as he sipped on his wine. “We’ve all accepted it by now. Just wait until it starts.”

“I don’t know if I want to wait for the show to start,” Louis muttered. “I’m about to walk out of this fucking room right now.”

“You’re not walking out,” Liam all but yelled in response. “It’s why we’re getting drunk. The alcohol will make it easier. Here, let’s do a drinking game every time we see someone shirtless.”

Louis blinked. “Isn’t that the whole show?” 

“Exactly,” Liam said, raising his glass in response. “Now you’re getting it.”

Louis’ initial state of alarm didn’t fade as the show segued into a choosing ceremony where people began to couple up with one another. “They’re… they’re literally picking each other based on looks,” Louis said incredulously. “That girl literally said she’s picking this man based on his hot abs.”

“They are,” Liam confirmed solemnly. He took a long sip of wine before saying, “you know, none of them are really taking this shit seriously.”

Louis craned his head to look at his friend. “What?”

“It’s like a survival game,” Liam said, taking another sip. “They know they’re here for reality TV, so now they’re just owning it. They do whatever it takes to stay on, even if it makes them look dumb. And it works. They’re the ones getting business deals at the end of the day.”

Louis leaned back thoughtfully, considering his friend’s words. Huh. Losing your dignity to attain your career goals. He had to admit, with grudging admiration, that these contestants deserved at least _some_ respect for going through with this whole charade. And he supposed everyone had to make sacrifices for their dream job. Louis was a living representation of it. 

Maybe it was the fact that Louis wanted to have a night of fun with Liam, drinking and making fun of shit TV, or maybe it was because Louis had nothing else to do — but in the end, he stayed. The next hours were spent drinking copious amounts of wine as Liam explained what went on behind the scenes of each episode. And maybe it was the alcohol that made it so, but Louis found himself enjoying the rubbish television he was watching, yelling at the half-naked contestants on-screen as they completed ridiculous challenges. 

Currently, a kissing challenge was unfolding in front of his very eyes. Louis couldn’t tell if he was horrified or entertained, yet, he wasn’t able to tear his eyes from the screen. “Please don’t tell me I’m going to have to do that.”

“You’re gonna to have to do it, mate,” Liam said, his words beginning to slur. “It’ll be so funny for me to watch.”

“Is it weird that I’m surprised that the contestants are actually normal?” Louis asked aloud, recalling a heart-to-heart scene between two islanders in the last episode they watched. “They have brains, and stuff.” 

“I told you, we pick good people, Lou,” Liam told him, sounding offended. “Most of them are really down-to-earth and cool.”

Louis coddled his wine in his arms. When had he swapped his glass for a bottle? “I’m a down-to-earth, cool person.” He was, wasn’t he?

“You are, Lou,” Liam said earnestly. “You’d be great on this show.”

Louis squinted at the screen, debating. “Would I? I don’t really want to be half-naked all the time.”

Liam lifted his hand, as if he was waving away this small detail. “You get used to it,” Liam assured him. “Besides, most of the contestants say they actually have a really fun summer and make lifelong friends.”

Huh. A really fun summer with lifelong friends. Like summer camp. When Louis voiced this out loud though, Liam laughed and agreed. 

It was hard not to get sucked into a show like _Love Island_ , especially when the episodes aired five days a week, new drama every day. By the fifth episode, Louis already felt like he was in the villa himself, properly acquainted with each one of the islanders. “I think I’m getting emotionally invested,” he admitted to Liam in distress as he watched a couple argue. _But they had been so good together!_

“That’s how it is,” Liam said, clapping him on the back. He sounded proud of Louis, although he was probably more proud of himself for sucking Louis into this vortex of reality television. “Congratulations. So,” he said, giving Louis a firm nod, “think you can see yourself doing this thing?”

It could have been the excessive amount of wine, or the mere thought of being on such a ridiculous — although admittedly, addicting — television show that made Louis throw his head back and laugh. “I dunno, mate,” Louis said, but even he could hear the lack of aversion in his tone. “We’ll just have to fucking wait and see.”

Was _Love Island_ a fucking piece of rubbish? Definitely. Kissing challenges? Fights over someone they had only met for a day? It was dramatic television through and through.

But, even through the forced cringiness of it all, the show was surprisingly not that bad. Unexpectedly human, too. For reality TV that was supposed to be shallow, there were some moments where the contestants surprised Louis with how considerate and serious they were in every decision. He had to admit to himself that it wasn’t half terrible.

Plus, a free holiday on a Spanish Island before law school? Even Louis’ drunken brain knew that was something that would be hard to turn down. 

\---  
  


Perhaps it was Liam’s incessant pestering that did the trick, but Louis didn’t find himself parked on his couch when the day of the interview came. Because really, he told himself on the drive to ITV headquarters, he didn’t have anything to lose. It was one interview, and based on how Liam had been going on and on about how rare interviews were, _maybe_ it made Louis not want to pass up on the opportunity. It was better to go than to sit at home and wonder _what if?_ He had his opportunist lawyer tendencies to blame it on.

Louis was aware that for an interview of this caliber, he should have maybe felt some sort of anxiety. But as someone who didn’t really care about whether he’d make it on the show, he wasn’t really nervous. He wasn’t entirely sure what the producers were looking for, anyway.

And though Louis had realized that the show wasn’t _entirely_ superficial, he still had some expectations as to what type of people he’d likely meet in the first interview — after all, Liam had told him that the producers were mainly trying to assess the initial pool of candidates before really getting to know their personalities. And Louis, with his background in law and virtually non-existent knowledge of the show — emphasis on the latter — was unique. Special, as Liam had told him. 

Louis snorted. Liam had reassured him that he was special because of his _personality_ , but as he strolled into the packed waiting room before the interview, Louis was becoming more and more certain he was ‘special’ mainly because he wasn’t yet another muscular, Ronaldo-esque look-alike. 

Besides working out, he had nothing in common with personal trainers or models. And that was if he even _bothered_ working out, which, if he was being completely honest, was something he hadn’t done in… three months? Unlike a few years ago, he hadn’t really had someone to impress lately. 

And after eavesdropping on a few conversations, Louis was fairly certain that at the very least, he probably wouldn’t perform the worst out of the bunch. He wasn’t desperate for this gig, and maybe that made him different. That had to count for something, right? The only problem was that he couldn’t be sure how much.

Still feeling out of place, Louis gingerly sat down next to a brown-haired man around his age, lounging casually as he tapped away at his phone. He looked… fairly normal, though just as attractive as many other applicants. A quick assessment gave Louis the impression that this guy was probably not a pretentious arsehole. And after having survived three years of suffering through his undergraduate degree, he had an instinct for detecting them. Pretentious arseholes, that was. 

Some of the men around them were already chatting with one another, although most of it seemed to consist of back-and-forth bragging. He might as well make conversation.

“You ever been to one of these before?” Louis asked, aiming for an air of nonchalance. 

Upon realizing that Louis was talking to him, the man looked up and shook his head, a pleasant grin on his lips. “Nah,” he said, surprising Louis with an Irish accent. “First time. You?” 

“Yeah, me too,” Louis said, wondering how much he should disclose. The other man seemed friendly and open to conversation, and while a small part of Louis’ brain was conditioned to assume nice people were just dickheads in sheep’s clothing, he decided this time to cut to the chase, manipulative arseholes be damned. Who cared, anyway?

“So, why are you here?” he asked. Although the words were blunt, he tried to inject as much politeness in his tone as possible. “I’m Louis, by the way.”

The brunet, however, didn’t seem deterred by Louis’ direct approach. “I’m Niall,” he replied, shaking Louis’ outstretched hand. “And I wanna be a singer. Wouldn’t hurt to gain some exposure and have some fun along the way, you know?” 

Niall’s easy answer was… surprising. Even if they were all technically here as _Love Island_ interviewees, a part of him had expected Niall to answer with an instinctive tinge of defensiveness. After all, for most people, applying for a TV show to find love wouldn’t be seen as the most… _conventional_ thing to do. Louis was sure that most of the people he personally knew would probably make fun of him for this to some degree, and that was even if he _didn’t_ get on the show. So it wouldn’t have surprised Louis if the man felt a need to justify his reasons without being asked.

But if Niall was self conscious in any way about auditioning for the show, he didn’t show it. In fact, he looked more at ease than ever, his lips curled into what seemed to be a permanently amused expression as both of them watched the crowd of men in the room. 

“That’s cool,” Louis replied. “What kind of music do you write?”

The other man shrugged, contemplating for a second. “Pop. Folk. Folk-pop.”

“Folk-pop,” Louis echoed, wondering if the confusion was evident in his voice. “Can’t say I listen to too much of that.” The closest artist to folk in his Spotify was probably Sufjan Stevens. And even then, Louis listened to him only because Lottie had forced him to download it so that he could finally have ‘good music taste’. Whatever that meant. He would be lying if he said he didn’t use that music to mainly put himself to sleep during late nights of insomnia.

“Well, you should,” Niall said brightly. “Glad there’s at least one person here who’s not a fake bastard,” he added, gesturing towards two men who were engaged in a push-up contest, and Louis grinned. He liked Niall already. 

Niall draped an arm around Louis’ chair, crossing a leg over another. Something about Niall’s relaxed demeanor told Louis that he was the kind of easygoing person who everyone found comfortable to talk to. “How about you?” 

Louis offered an amused, quirked brow in response. “Me? What kind of songs do I write?”

Niall laughed good-naturedly, even though it wasn’t _that_ great of a joke. Then again, he seemed like the kind of guy who found a lot of things to be genuinely funny, regardless of whether the other person had meant to be humorous or not. 

“Why you’re here,” Niall explained, gesturing to everyone around them. “I feel like everyone’s got different reasons, and most of them probably aren’t here for ‘love’, either.” Niall mimed quotation marks with his hands. 

Ah. Louis snorted, because, well. Niall was probably right. For a moment, the law student in him weighed the pros and cons of how much he should reveal, before concluding that Niall was a nice guy, who didn’t seem curious for the sake of competition. _Fuck it_ , Louis thought to himself. It was possible that he was overthinking this whole thing. 

“My friend Liam signed me up,” Louis admitted after a beat of consideration. “Even though I’m gay.” Revealing his sexuality to someone on the first day could very well be self-sabotage, especially if he really did make it on the show. But something about Niall’s amiable demeanor made Louis feel as though it was okay to admit it. 

In response, Niall raised his eyebrows, looking momentarily confused, before settling into a pleased grin. And to Louis’ relief, there was no disdain in Niall’s expression. “So you’re just here for fun then?”

Louis barked a laugh at the thought, before realizing that although _fun_ wasn’t necessarily the first thought that came to mind, that was pretty much the reason for why he was here, wasn’t it? That, and the girls – neither of which were necessarily strong reasons to thrust himself into the limelight that was reality television. “I’m not really sure why I’m here yet,” he confessed. “I have a free summer before going back to school, you know?”

Niall nodded, as if Louis’ answer made sense. “The money doesn’t hurt, either,” Niall added, almost as an afterthought. 

“Yeah, exactly,” Louis said with a nod of his own. Out of everyone in the room he could have sat next to, he was glad that it had been who was so refreshingly candid about everything. He figured that if he and Niall had met under any other circumstance, they probably would’ve become mates, and had just as great banter while watching footy at one of the local pubs. 

And, honestly, he felt oddly relieved that Niall hadn’t acted adversely to any of Louis’ confessions. A part of him expected to have been called out as a fraud and immediately disqualified from the show, with some sort of _Love Island_ police escorting him off the premises.

“We all go on the show for our own reasons,” Niall said comfortably, leaning back into his chair. “I don’t really care, s’long as you’re not a prick.”

“You reckon the majority of the contestants will be pricks, then?” Louis asked, furrowing his brows. He glanced around the room one more time. Well, Niall probably had more knowledge of the show than he did. 

“Not to get ahead of myself, but…” Niall scanned the room with exaggerated distaste. He looked over at Louis last and raised his eyebrows, the implied _yes_ hanging in the air that made both of them burst into laughter. 

“No, but honestly? Based on the past seasons, most people who actually get on the show seem pretty decent,” Niall said, giving a casual shrug. “It’s the situation that shapes a person, though, especially for reality TV. You gotta have some drama on there. And most of these people won’t make it through the first interview.”

So he was echoing what Liam had told him earlier, which… could be good news for him. If he really wanted to be on the show, that was. Louis felt a spark of unexpected optimism settle into his chest. 

The rest of the waiting time was spent chatting with Niall, where they both discovered a common love for football. Louis had _known_ Niall would be a footy lad. And so they had devoted a good twenty minutes bantering about their favourite teams — _sorry, mate, it’s gonna be Donny and no other team for me_ , Louis had told Niall, much to the other man’s incredulity — before someone at the front announced that the interviews would take place soon. 

“Could be fun if we ended up on there together,” Niall said finally, as they stood up and gathered their things. 

“Yeah, it would,” Louis replied, surprised at how he actually meant it. Niall gave him a small smile, slapped him on the back, and headed into the first interview room. _Might not be that bad_ , he thought to himself for a moment, before quickly grabbing his jacket and following everyone else. _Might not be bad at all_. 

Louis had to admit that he’d expected the first group interview to be a breeze. But a few minutes in, he began to realize that maybe it had been unfair to judge the books by their covers. Of course, he still heard dubious answers to some questions — _my biggest accomplishment was hitting five thousand on Instagram_ — but Louis found himself surprised to hear a few more-than-substantial answers from people that he had previously figured were just pretty faces. 

_Why do you think you would be a good fit for this show?_

_How do you view yourself as a person?_

_What’s the driving force behind everything that you do?_

Based on the answers given and the interviewers’ responses, it became clear to Louis that the majority of people were there to advance their careers — for fame, for money, whatever the reason. He was amazed that no one shied away from revealing their intentions for applying for the show. Honesty, it seemed, was encouraged here. 

Interesting.

It was even more surprising to Louis when he found himself answering the questions himself with an equal amount of thought. And just from the producers’ considering gazes, he guessed that his answers weren’t too shabby. Or maybe they were just startled by his mere presence, by the fact that a person like Louis, who had never modelled any underwear in his life, was here. He couldn’t be too sure. 

So maybe even if this show was presented under a superficial image, it wasn’t as superficial as it seemed. Louis would be first to admit that he had been wrong so far, at least up to this point. He had been wrong about the other contestants, wrong about being so judgemental of the show. He hadn’t expected to come here and be surprised at every corner.

The one thing that Louis certainly didn’t expect was to come out of the interview with a desire to succeed.

\---

When Louis received an invitation to the third interview, he was shocked to realize that he was actually _nervous_. And, as per usual, he reacted by being annoyed at Liam for setting him up on this whole thing in first place.

“I’ve heard that the third one is the most serious one,” Liam said over the phone, once again ignoring Louis’ many complaints. He sounded distracted — Louis could distantly hear the sound of sirens coming from Liam’s end. “But I’m sure you’ll do great. Just don’t fuck up!” he said cheerfully, before ending the call. 

Great. “Thanks for the help,” Louis muttered to the blinking _call ended_ on the screen. He was going to plan all the ways Liam would die a slow, painful death for getting him into this mess. He blamed Liam. And mojitos. But mostly Liam. 

When the day of his third interview finally came around, Louis could tell from the moment he walked into ITV’s headquarters that something was different, just as Liam had said. 

While the previous two interviews had featured long lineups of potential contestants, there were no lineups at all, this time. In fact, it was mostly empty, with only a few men sitting on the chairs in the waiting room, but he recognized one person instantly — Niall. He walked towards his new friend, who was holding a guitar on his lap. 

“Hey, Niall,” Louis greeted him, perhaps too loud. Maybe it was seeing a familiar face or maybe it was just Niall, but his presence immediately put Louis at ease. Either way, it was a relief to see him there.

Thankfully, Niall’s reaction was just as enthusiastic. “Louis!” Setting his guitar aside, Niall stood up with a grin. “Glad to see you made it through, as well,” he chirped, giving Louis a brief hug. 

“Is this where we wait?” Louis asked, taking a look around. He hadn’t been to this room before, and it was significantly more elegant than what he had seen from ITV thus far. While the previous two interviews had taken place in rooms that were mostly grey and barren, this area featured warm, bright lights and comfortable benches. The walls were lined with eccentric art pieces, and there was even a potted plant sitting on the coffee table, along with a nice spread of up-to-date magazines. He’d officially been deemed important enough to see the real _Love Island_ reception space. 

Niall gestured at Louis to sit back down with him. “Yeah. Bit intense, innit? Glad you’re here.” 

Louis nodded in agreement, feeling a bit at a loss of words, for once. Suffice to say that this waiting area intimidated him a lot more than the others had. “Honestly thought there’d be more people here, but I guess it’s just a few of us for this one,” Louis replied around a smile. 

There was a moment of silence as they both sat down, before Louis asked the question that he’d been curious about since he first saw Niall’s guitar. “Were we supposed to bring something to this interview? I don’t really have any talents like that.” 

At this, Niall laughed conspiratorially. “No, no… You remember the redheaded interviewer? Maggie?” 

Louis searched his memory from the last interview he had done a few weeks ago. He squinted at the ceiling, trying to remember. “Yeah, yeah I think I do. She’s the quiet one that just takes notes or summat, right?” 

Niall nodded, looking delighted. “Well,” he began, leaning towards Louis and looking over his shoulder. He lowered his voice to a half-whisper. “Pretty sure she likes me. At the end of the interview she got all pink and said she wanted to hear me play guitar another time,” he finished, winking at Louis. “Reckon I got a better chance of getting on the show if I’ve got her on my side.”

This startled Louis into a small laugh, feeling a mixture of disbelief and giddiness at the pure _gall_ Niall had. “Niall, _mate_ ,” Louis chuckled, clapping his friend on the back. “You already playing your own version of _Love Island_?” 

Niall hooted with glee, before strumming a soft tune on his guitar while raising a suggestive brow at Louis. Louis shook his head fondly. He was so, so glad that he had someone else to sit here with. Even with the looming reality of potentially getting on the show, Louis couldn’t help but feel relaxed, maybe even a little excited. It was enough to say that even if he didn’t get on the show, he’d still had a good experience hanging out with Niall. He almost felt sad at the idea of neither of them getting cast. 

The next thirty minutes were spent chatting as they waited for their turns, with Niall detailing a long-winded story about how he had ended up drunk in Scotland, and woken up surrounded by the famous highland cattle.

Finally, Louis’ name was called. “Good luck,” Niall said, with what seemed like genuine feeling. That was what Louis liked about Niall the most. 

“Thanks.” Louis stood up. “Same to you. Maybe I’ll see you in Majorca.” 

Niall grinned, thrusting his chin in reply. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Louis couldn’t help but smile back, and gave Niall a final wave as he headed towards the interview room. 

\---  
  


The first thing that Louis noticed was that the interview room was dark and very modern, furnished with oak panels and black carpeting. It reminded him of some prolific law firms he had visited. 

A single leather chair was positioned in front of an enormous desk, where two men and one woman were busily shuffling papers. They were all dressed stylishly, their professional aura contrasting sharply with the nature of _Love Island_ itself. Louis took a seat.

In comparison to how lighthearted and silly the show was, he was struck by how different it was behind the scenes. In fact, this interview made it clear that he was entering the practical, numbers-based side of things. Maybe Niall wouldn’t get a chance to impress Maggie with his guitar, after all. 

Among the papers, Louis spotted a document with his name at the top, followed by various photos that were clearly of him. The largest image was the one Liam had taken of him during their night at the Sweet Lilac, piñata hat and all. Okay, so maybe filling out his application while drunk hadn’t been such a genius idea, after all. 

A woman with a sleek ponytail was the first to speak. “Hi Louis,” she started, “before we begin, could you please sign this NDA?” She pushed a sheet of paper toward him. “And just to let you know, we’ll be filming this interview, okay? But don’t worry about that, just focus on us.” She nodded to a camera sitting to the left of the desk on a stand. 

So this _definitely_ wasn’t like other interviews. He felt a brief sense of poised calm sweep over him as he filled out his NDA, hyper-aware of how this moment was definitely, definitely a make or break moment. He tried not to think about the weight of it all, whether he wanted to succeed or fail. _Just get through the interview._

“So, Louis,” the man on the left prompted as soon as he handed the NDA back, “tell us a bit about yourself.” The interviewers stared at him expectantly, pens in hand. 

This was something that Louis could do – he’d perfected this spiel from the other two interviews, running it over in his head after he hadn’t known what to say the first time. He felt himself relax as this time, the words came out easily, as if he was on autopilot. Talking was something that he was good at, something he had perfected over the years — especially when it came to putting on a show. 

The interview continued on, with each person asking him a few questions that were mostly related to his lifestyle, his ambitions, his hobbies. With each question, Louis felt himself easing into it, enough for him to at least make some polite jokes and talk about his love for his family in more detail. The questions were almost all variations of things that had been asked of him in previous interviews, until the final portion. 

“What are you looking for in a relationship?” the female producer asked. She glanced over the notes she had taken from the rest of the interview before turning her attention to him once again. 

An unwarranted flush washed over him before his mind even fully registered the question. _C’mon, this is an easy answer. Just say something, anything_ , Louis thought to himself, trying to suppress the ideas of what he would’ve said just a few years ago, when he had actually _been_ in a relationship. When he had been with a person that had always known the right thing to say, that balanced him perfectly, that had had the quirkiest sense of humor. 

_Fuck_. Louis glanced towards the window; it was too far away to jump out of, but doing that would have been easier than having to sit through these questions. Then again, he didn’t think he’d be able to break the glass, and he’d probably end up with a raging concussion instead. 

“Uh,” he mumbled unintelligibly, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears. “Someone who’s not afraid to speak their mind,” he said. That was true, at least. 

Despite the shitty answer, Louis watched the interviewers fervently scribble their notes. One of the men looked up expectantly, silently willing him to continue. If there was anything Louis knew about interviews, it was that more than one second of hesitation would give away uncertainty and ingenuity. _Alright, Louis. Time to turn up your lawyer bullshitting skills._

“I’ve been working hard over the past few years in uni and as a paralegal,” Louis continued, scrunching his forehead convincingly. Maybe if he folded his hands and leaned forward he would look sincere enough. “And I have some friends, but it’d be nice if I had someone to share my experiences with. Someone who I can wake up to. I haven’t had much time to think about it until now, which is why I’m here.”

 _Liar_. Louis had been thinking about it, had been thinking about it a lot in the past two years — in fact, Liam would tell him that his main problem was that he hadn’t been able to move on from his last relationship until recently. But the interviewers didn’t need to know that. 

“Have you had any past dating experiences or relationships?” one of the interviewers asked, pen poised to record his answer. 

Louis blinked, trying to will the memories away. Instead, they came in full force, like a punch. Like any other guy his age, he had dated around before. But only one of them mattered. Only one of them had been enough to convince him to think about settling down, getting married, having kids — Louis had only had one relationship where he believed that finding his ‘other half’ had been a real thing. 

One second of hesitation passed by. Then two. _Fuck it_ , Louis thought to himself. Honesty was good, right? Honesty was encouraged. 

“Yeah, I’ve had a few. My last relationship lasted four years, but I wasn’t ready for long distance, so it didn’t end well.” Louis took a deep breath. _Relax._ This was just an interview. The interviewers didn’t even _know_ about his past relationship, and probably didn’t care. 

“I haven’t been on any serious dates or dating apps since then,” he added, thinking of his disdain when Liam had suggested that he download Tinder a few months ago. _Over my dead body, Liam_. “But I think maybe I’m ready to try again.”

Louis said the last statement with conviction, and it made him wonder how true it really was. There had been a period of time after his breakup when he had frantically tried to meet other people. But none of the men he saw had matched him the same way one specific person did. And by the time Louis had fully realized that, he’d simply decided to not think about dating until he wanted to again.

And apparently, signing up for a reality television show was the push he needed to start contemplating relationships once more. 

The interviewers nodded, all writing things down on their notepad. God, Louis wished they weren’t so aggressive with their notes. The amount of waiting in between questions was more than awkward, bordering on suffocating. He just wanted to go home, make some food, and go the fuck to sleep. 

“Do you believe in true love?” the female interviewer suddenly asked into the silence. She looked at him cooly, before glancing over to the other interviewers. All three of them sat at the desk, waiting for his response. 

“Yes,” Louis heard himself reply. 

There was a small, almost surprised, silence in the room. Louis hadn’t answered anything so quickly in the rest of the interview, and he had stunned even himself. If someone had told Louis a few months ago that he would be where he was now, with that specific answer, he’d have scoffed and thought they were on drugs. How could he follow that up? Surely they didn’t want a yes or no answer to what was probably one of the most important questions of the interview.

But Louis wasn’t even sure what he had meant to say. He didn’t even know why he replied the way he did. Louis’ thoughts raced. He had nothing. Nothing to add. He didn’t even notice when the three interviewers began to stand up. 

“Well, that’d be all, Louis, thank you for joining us today,” said the man on the right, closing his folder with a pat. The woman looked at him with a steely gaze, considering.

 _Was that it?_ Louis glanced at his watch, realizing that a full hour had passed, though it certainly hadn’t felt like it. 

The interviewers shook his hand politely as they escorted him out of the room, and on the ride down the elevator and throughout his tube trip back home, Louis thought about the questions the interviewers had asked him. Liam was right — it was time to stop hiding in the past. He needed to move on and meet new people. He wanted to have fun this summer, and a fresh start when he started his new job. 

_Do you believe in true love?_

The sentence had been playing in Louis’ head the moment he had walked out of ITV’s headquarters; a faint, persistent thought that wouldn’t go away. As he made his way down the street towards his flat, the question resonated within him. 

_Yes. No. Yes?_

What did true love even mean, anyway? A clichéd trope of sorts, a concept embedded in false aspirations and expectations. True love was something that originated from fairytale stories, from fake Disney plots. And Disney was really just a product created for profit, after all. 

_Yes._

There _had_ been a time, though. A time where Louis couldn’t help but believe in true love, whatever that was. A time when his thoughts had been filled with someone who would fit his own Prince Charming trope. Except his Prince Charming had a crown of brown hair, curls flopping over his forehead no matter how much he tried to brush them away. A barking laugh that had rung in Louis’ ears, the memory lulling him to sleep. 

The thing about fairytales, though, was that the stories always concluded at the happy ending. After the couple got together and the fireworks erupted. They never expanded on life _after_ the happy ending. Never on the arguments, never on the hard times. They never considered the fact that maybe Prince Charming would disappear and head off to America. Fairytales left everyone with the illusion that the couples would stay together forever. But did they even? Did Prince Charming and Cinderella ever break up?

Fairytales never expanded on the inevitable _we need to talk_ conversations, spurred after months of strained phone calls and conflicting time zones. Never on the head-pounding confusion of whether you ever made the right decision at all. Never on the guilt that maybe it was your fault for letting the prince go, or that you were too weak to handle the distance. 

_Yes._

\---  
  


_Harry had a tendency to re-watch movies. This was especially unfortunate when Harry wanted to watch a specific, particularly bad movie._

_“I’m voting for this one,” Harry said, finger poised above the button in challenge, with a stubborn look to match._

_“We’re not watching that again,” Louis said, making a move for the remote. As expected, Harry held the remote above his head, the corner of his mouth curled up into a mischievous grin._

_“Why don’t you like_ The Notebook, _Lou? We watch it all the time.”_

_Instead of responding, Louis bolted up and snatched the remote from Harry’s hand, leaving a pouting Harry rubbing at his wrist. Unpredictability was key when it came to outsmarting Harry._

_“_ You _watch it all the time," Louis said, dropping a kiss to Harry’s wrist. It wasn’t likely that Harry was actually in pain, but the smile blooming on his face made the action worth it._

_“But you watch it with me,” Harry countered, as if this was a valid argument. “You love it.”_

_This was a point they both knew was not true. “I watch it with you because I’m selfless,” Louis told him, squaring towards the TV. “It’s a shit movie with a shitty love trope.”_

_“It’s true love, Louis,” Harry said, watching as Louis scrolled through multiple Netflix options. “Don’t hate on true love.”_

_“I’m not hating on true love. It’s just a bad movie. Plain and simple.”_

_“How is_ Ex Machina _a better choice than_ The Notebook _?” Harry protested once he saw Louis’ selection on the screen. “We watched that one two months ago.”_

_“There’s no bad love trope,” Louis argued, tucking the remote underneath his arse so Harry wouldn’t be able to take it away. It was more of a statement than a precaution. He knew Harry would never steal it from him, anyway._

_“You love love,” Harry said, pulling Louis into his side. “Admit it.”_

_Like a reflex, Louis tipped his head against Harry’s shoulder. “Maybe I’ll admit it if you make me a sandwich,” Louis murmured._

_“Cheese toastie?” Harry asked, running his hand gently through Louis’ hair. This was something Harry did often, something he knew that calmed Louis._

_Louis nodded contently, taking in the rhythmic brushing of Harry’s fingers. “Yes, please.”_

_“Okay,” Harry agreed easily. Louis could hear a smile in there somewhere. “I’ll make you two.”_

\---

Louis shook his head, walking faster to jostle the thoughts out of his head. He was almost home. 

Fuck this love thing. Fuck his answers to the interviewers. Words were just words anyway. 

He had gone through all of the whole interview process. He was going to win the show, come back home, help pay for the house, and become a lawyer. Right. That was the plan.

That is, if they still wanted him. And after his confusing responses to what should’ve been basic answers about love, Louis couldn’t be sure anymore. 


	3. Chapter 3

“I _wrote a song about my mate’s pet chicken once. Do you want to hear it?”_

_Niall, Love Island round 3 interviews_

\---

By some luck of the universe, Louis got the call on Thursday. 

“Louis, that’s fucking amazing,” Liam said when Louis dialled him. “You went to three fucking interviews! That’s… that’s rare, Lou. They must have really liked you. And to be a _main islander._ ” 

There was a brief pause. Louis wasn’t completely sure about what it meant, but it did nothing to quell the feelings of apprehension and the jitters that had been sitting in his gut ever since he had received the call. 

Louis understood, was the thing. This was a big deal, and he was fairly certain that getting picked as a main islander was comparable to winning a very niche lottery. He would be amongst the first few to visit the villa, and he’d get all the promo, the first interviews, all of it. Most people _wanted_ that position. But Louis — Louis didn’t know whether he was numb with disbelief or anticipated terror. It felt a little bit like being a part of the first pack of lambs, thrown towards the wolves. 

“Fuck.” Louis suddenly recalled the cringeworthy promo clips of people talking about themselves, clad in nothing but gaudy bathing suits. “So I’ll be in that group of people who have to have character biography videos and dance in front of neon backdrops?”

“Exactly,” Liam replied, with a hint of what sounded suspiciously like glee in his voice. Louis swore that Liam was out to get him, sometimes. 

“Fucking hell,” Louis muttered, sliding a hand down his face. The feeling of dread beginning to settle deep within him. Was the considerable amount of money worth it if he had to look like an idiot on television? “Why am I doing this again?”

“Because it’s not so bad! And you get so many perks! You’re going to be great at it,” Liam insisted. “Just be your own cheeky self.”

“Grand advice, Liam,” Louis said, letting out a deep sigh. “Thank you.”

“You’re going to do it though,” Liam said, matter-of-factly, with such certainty in his voice that it made Louis stop and consider. 

Maybe Liam’s answer was so sure because he knew Louis better than anyone. And if Louis had wanted to back out of this, he would have by now, and that was something his best friend definitely knew. So why _hadn’t_ he backed out yet? 

Was it because Louis hadn’t really _done_ anything for the past few years of his life, which made this extreme opportunity intriguing? Or because he had a free summer? Or because he needed to just live a little, for once? 

Either way, Liam was right. He wouldn’t back out. Not now.

\---

“They said I’ll be leaving next week. Flight’s booked and everything,” Louis said to Liam as he looked around the flat. Throughout the day, he’d been making a mental checklist of everything he wanted to bring with him to the villa, even though the producers had told him they would be giving him a more formal checklist a few days from now. Liam had hung around his flat, being purposefully unhelpful by tossing peanuts at him from the couch.

Five years ago, if Louis had been asked how he envisioned his future, it definitely wouldn’t have included being cast in a reality TV show. Or having to dig a peanut out of his jumper because of his lame best mate. 

But somehow, the present Louis was doing exactly that. And while he still hadn’t figured out whether it was an action of desperation for excitement or stupid spontaneity, he had somewhat accepted it. Though it hadn’t really sunken in yet. 

He wasn’t really sure what to expect, to be honest. And maybe that was why it was a little bit easier to accept it, to just live in the present. And currently, the present meant packing.

Toothbrush, toiletries, charger, towel… shit, he would have to make a mental reminder to ask Liam if he needed to get better clothes. Louis owned only two types of clothing these days — stuffy suits for work, or jumpers and sweatpants. And maybe one pair of black skinnies. 

Yeah, he’d probably need to get at least a few more summer things. 

From the couch, Liam let out an excited sigh. “I still can’t believe my best mate’s going to be on the show,” Liam repeated, for what felt like the thousandth time. It was as if _Liam_ had been chosen to go on the show himself; he hadn’t been able to stop talking about it. Then again, he was profiting off of Louis’ time on the island, too. “Have you packed everything yet?”

Louis looked at Liam, deadpan. “Yes, I have,” he said, blank tone contrasting against Liam’s buzzing enthusiasm. He spun around, narrowing his eyes. “You’ll get your pay bonus and then treat me to a _very_ fancy dinner worth at least fifty quid right after I get eliminated, alright?” 

Liam had a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he shook his head. “Nah, Lou. I’m one-hundred-percent sure you’ll stay on for a least a few weeks. If not, I'll buy you a dinner worth a hundred quid.” 

Well, at least Louis had that going for him. “They want me in the studio to do a bunch of promo in the next few days before they give me more details about what to pack,” Louis said. He cringed inwardly, imagining the different types of swim shorts he’d have to wear. At least he could dress normally in the evenings.

Delight spread across Liam’s face. “Do you know what this means? It means that I’ll get to handle your socials!” he exclaimed wickedly, rubbing his hands together like a Disney villain. Oh, God. Liam was going to hold the reins to his Instagram. He didn’t even _use_ his Instagram, and he was sure that the amount of times Liam would urge Louis’ influx of followers to vote for him would be absolutely sinful. 

Whipping around, Louis shot him a cold glare. “No,” Louis said, wishing that it wasn’t mandatory for each contestant to hand over their social media accounts to a friend. “How do you know I don’t have someone else to do it?”

Liam snorted. “What, do you want _Lottie_ to take over your instagram? You’ve got no one else.” He finished his statement with a vicious smile. 

After narrowing his eyes at Liam for a good moment, Louis realized that he was probably right; his little sister managing his account would be even worse. When Louis had told his sisters about his stint on _Love Island_ , they had been positively delirious, especially Lottie. True, they had been confused about why he had applied in first place, but since they were such big fans of the show, they had decided not to question it when Louis had told them that Liam had convinced him by painting the show like it was just a big holiday. 

If Lottie got hold of Louis’ Instagram, she could very well start promoting her _own socials_. And Louis didn’t even want to start thinking about the knobs that might start messaging her as a result.

“No embarrassing photos,” Louis said, conceding. “I mean it.” He tried to give Liam his best threatening glare. 

Liam laughed again, though Louis noticed that he made no promise. “Oh, Lou, I always knew you’d make a great heartthrob,” he teased, only narrowly managing to duck out of the way from the bag of clothes Louis threw at him in response.

\---

It didn’t really hit Louis how much he had underestimated this whole reality TV thing until everything started to actually _happen_.

Between promotional filming, phone calls, gathering a whole summer’s worth of photos to post, dealing with the logistics of his apartment since he’d be away — Louis barely had time to pack. 

Filming for promo, surprisingly, wasn’t as bad as Louis had expected. After witnessing the promotional segments from previous seasons, he’d been dreading the cheesy one-liners he assumed he’d have to do in front of neon heart backgrounds. If it were up to him, it would just be a simple white backdrop, maybe a nice smile, and that was it. No one, _absolutely no one,_ wanted to be associated with neon heart backgrounds. Not even men with perfectly manicured eyebrows and tiny swim trunks, of which Louis was sure a few would be on the show. 

Alas. If _Love Island_ was a game, Louis figured he would just have to play it according to his own rules. There was no way in hell he was going to wear tiny swim trunks on live television. Even if he had to fight the producers on it.

“Louis,” one of the producers called as Louis passively stood in front of the camera. “We’re going to need you to do a pose. Do a heart with your hands or something.”

There was no way he was going to do a fucking heart with his hands. “Can I maybe do something else?” Louis asked, painting an appropriate expression of dread on his face. The cameraman snorted inconspicuously into his hand. He knew _exactly_ why Louis was complaining. 

“Maybe some dancing?” Louis suggested instead, doing some hip shimmying before the producers could stop him. Still embarrassing, but at least it wasn’t heart-shaped-hands embarrassing. Louis still had some amount of dignity left, although it certainly wasn’t much. 

The producer rolled her eyes, but Louis could tell she was suppressing a smile. She waved her hand, signalling a go-ahead. It would make him a more unique contestant, at least. 

“Just let him do what he wants to do,” the producer said. She was shaking her head, but based on how she’d agreed, it didn’t seem like she cared much. Huh. Louis wondered just how many people tried to reject those ridiculous poses. If the contestants only bothered to say no, they probably wouldn’t have to do them either. Or maybe the producers were just used to dealing with entitled would-be celebrities. 

The cameraman continued to take pictures, and Louis felt grateful that he had at least thought ahead and brought props, like Liam had suggested. He tried to spend most of his shots with the football, hoping those would be the shots that would get circulated on TV. After all, if they didn’t have any footage of him doing anything embarrassing, they wouldn’t be able to use it at all.

 _Not bad_ , Louis thought to himself. So far, he was doing pretty well at keeping his own promise of not being _that_ cheesy _Love Island_ guy. 

\--- 

The whole pre-filming schedule was a far cry from his daily life, which had previously included long hours in the office, flitting from courtroom to client meetings. Now everything was just a blur of cameras and makeup. And while, admittedly, Louis didn’t find it _completely_ terrible, it did take some getting used to.

It was on departure day that everything finally hit him. After calling for final apartment arrangements, last minute packing, and a mad dash to the airport, Louis plopped down in seat 30B, out of breath, and tried to take it all in. 

So he was really doing this. Taking off on a flight to Spain to enter his best friend’s reality TV show. 

_Is this insane?_ Louis wondered, tuning out the flight safety video displayed on the screen. Looking out the window, he was hit with the realization that the next time he would see this view, would be on his way back from Majorca, where everything would inevitably be different.

Now that he finally had time to sit and think about it, Louis pondered if this decision was a little bit crazy. He had always been the kind of person who approached things with the mindset that he had nothing to lose. It was how he had gotten his paralegal job and made it into law school, after all. But was there such a thing as taking it too far? 

_It’s what I like about you. Your determination._

_My determination?_

_Yeah. You set your mind to something and you do it, no matter what it is._

Taking a short breath, Louis looked away from the window, feeling his lungs constrict a bit as he recalled the memory. 

_You set your mind to something and you do it._

At the time, the words had been said with a fond smile. There had been no one else who knew Louis so well, no one else who could predict Louis’ actions even before he even knew what he would do.

 _Would you have seen me do_ this _?_ Louis couldn’t help but think as he watched the clouds float beneath him. 

Thankfully, his thoughts were interrupted when the flight attendant came by with their limited snack options, and the distraction was enough for Louis to direct his thoughts elsewhere until he started dozing off. When he opened his eyes again, the window showed him a stunning view of blue water out the window. 

_Welcome to paradise,_ Louis thought to himself. _You’re being given an all-expenses paid trip, at least._

The magical wonder lasted all of five minutes — when he stepped off the plane, he was unceremoniously shoved into a car by a team of ITV staff. Right. Not exactly all fun and free time. He didn’t even have any time to breathe until he was directed to his hotel room and the door shut behind him. 

Once again, he was on his own.

Was it going to be like this for the rest of the week? Either being flanked with people who were there to bring him to places, or alone with nothing but silence, and nowhere else to go? For something that many considered to be a holiday, it was a strange way to relax.

But, for the rest of the week, Louis lived — though being cooped up when there was a tropical paradise outside wasn’t necessarily the best way to enjoy it. The producers (and Liam) called this the “quarantine period,” because aside from being allowed out for carefully scheduled mealtimes and specified “leisure hours,” he was to stay in his hotel room. This was supposedly so that they wouldn’t meet any of the contestants before the show actually started. At least his room was air conditioned.

The producers had explained this to him beforehand, of course. In true dramatic fashion, everything was organized to ensure that no leaks about the show’s cast got out. Apparently, they truly wanted the first meeting between cast members to be “ _organic,_ ” and all captured on camera. 

_And if it’s not organic enough, they’ll just make us film it again_ , Louis thought as he lounged on the balcony of his hotel room. On the bright side, he had a stunning view of the lush greenery and outdoor pool, though it made him miss home even more — he could easily imagine his sisters enjoying a holiday like this. 

Louis vaguely recalled wanting, at some point, to actually be on the show. Now all he wanted was a chance to explore Majorca, spend some time outside enjoying the sun, and actually _talk_ to people that weren’t part of the _Love Island_ crew. His favourite part of the day was meeting the cleaning lady, who eyed him suspiciously every time she walked in to find him _still_ in his hotel room. But hey, it wasn’t like he was in here by choice. 

He would have called Liam to give him a piece of his mind after sticking him with a TV that didn’t air any football, but the show had even taken away his phone, those fuckers. A prisoner was what he was. A _Love Island_ prisoner.

It wasn’t until the fifth day that he was finally released. Louis could have sworn he’d been trapped in that room for years.

“Louis, it’s time,” Carla called, knocking on his door several times. She was slightly out of breath, and the shadows under her eyes suggested that the 6th season of _Love Island_ had well and truly started. 

As one of the _Love Island_ producers, Carla had been assigned to watch over Louis while he was preparing to go into the villa. Carla, Louis had learned, was a lion of sorts. She was fierce and organized, and entirely unfazed when Louis had begun complaining to her about his missing freedom every time she made an appearance in his room. In the past three days, they had somehow developed a relationship that consisted mostly of Louis grumbling at her, and in response, her finding different ways to make him shut up. 

And while Louis spent most of his time half-resenting Carla, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit of pity when even _she_ looked like she could use another ten hours of sleep. Coming to fetch Louis at six in the morning was probably the last thing she wanted to do after having spent a whole night ensuring the villa was set up for the first day of filming.

“Grab your suitcase. We’ve got a van waiting for you downstairs, and then we’ll be taking the drive to the villa. Got it? Be down there in thirty,” she called as she swivelled away mid-sentence, looking over a very complex timetable on her phone. She disappeared down the hallway, walking as quickly as she had arrived. 

Louis stood there, overwhelmed. Okay. So it was go time. Was he ready?

He thought about all the important, monumental moments that he’d been through. His acceptance to uni, his job offer. The preparation, the anticipation, the nerves. If he’d made it through those things, what was stopping him from this? It was another challenge. Another adventure, of sorts.

Rolling back his shoulders, Louis took a deep breath. 

Hell _yes_ , he would be ready. Whether he wanted to be or not. 

\---

Louis found out pretty quickly that he wouldn’t be walking straight into the villa. Instead, he was introduced to several new crew members, all of whom were much less frantic than Carla. It made sense, Louis supposed. Carla was in charge of everyone’s lives in the villa. And all the crew members had to do was hold equipment. 

Louis was asked to change into his swim trunks, then wait in a building adjacent to the villa. According to Carla, the building was where most of the crew would be staying over the summer. A building that had internet access, unlike the villa. Sigh. 

Something that this building didn’t seem to have, however, was air conditioning. Sitting in what appeared to be an office, Louis could already feel the heat of the island soaking through the walls of the room. No wonder they wore swim trunks. He’d have to apply some intense SPF unless he wanted to shrivel into wrinkles before he even passed his legal practice course exams. 

Louis’ only source of current entertainment was listening to the updates that Carla relayed from her headset as she went back and forth between him and the other male islanders who were in separate rooms. The female islanders, he learned, would be driven into the villa first on Jeeps (which, honestly, made Louis want to roll his eyes — could they not have given them Maseratis or something instead?), and then the men would be asked to step into the villa, one by one. From Louis’ memories of watching the first episode, that was the initial coupling. Or, as Louis saw it, the cheesy tidbit of television where the women would be eyeing the men like meat. 

After a while, Louis began to tune Carla out, because there was only so much messy headset communication that he could take. Instead, he found himself counting all the circles in the rug. _Fun_. He had definitely slaved away in his undergrad to do exactly this. 

After what felt like years, Carla finally burst into the room, announcing that it was his turn to enter the villa. A wave of relief washed over him — _no more waiting!_ — until the relief was, to his own surprise, replaced by sudden anxiety. 

The worry must have been visible on his face. “Hey, it’s going to be alright, you know?” reassured Carla as she adjusted his mic strap. She tightened the black belt around his waist one more time to make sure it wouldn’t fall off. Louis looked at her with an air of disbelief. Was she finally being _nice_?

Carla rolled her eyes. “Don’t look at me like that, Louis. I can be a nice person, okay? Now go in there. You look great. Caroline and the other girls are waiting,” she declared, shooing him off towards the doors. 

Louis took a deep breath, questioned his sanity one last time, plastered a huge smile onto his face and headed towards the villa.

\---

The _Love Island_ villa was exactly how it looked like on television — grand, modern, and decorated with more neon than he would have liked. As he made his way through the large house, he realized just how _big_ the estate was. 

He didn’t have time to take it all in, though. He had been directed to go straight to the lawn, where a cast of girls in bikinis would be waiting to judge him for his looks. 

“Everyone, say hi to Louis,” Louis heard as he stepped outside. It was Caroline Flack — she looked exactly as she did in all the _Love Island_ episodes that Liam had made him watch — and for a moment, it felt surreal to even see her in person. As the host of the show, Caroline would be making occasional appearances, usually to facilitate the elimination of an islander. 

Louis registered the whistles and hollers, and then the five girls standing in front of him, all dressed in bright bikinis. _Jesus Christ,_ he thought to himself, fixing a grin on his face. What if the summer was going to be worse than he imagined? 

“Oi! He’s a charmer,” a distinctly loud voice bellowed, interrupting his startled thoughts. Louis noted that the voice was distinctly loud, male and Irish, and wait — was that…? Turning around, Louis realized that the voice belonged to one of the two male contestants. Specifically, a contestant with sandy brown hair and blue eyes, standing next to a pretty girl in a pink bathing suit. _Niall_. 

Instantly, Louis felt all his stress dissipate. “Fuckin’ hell,” he murmured with relief, more to himself than to anyone else. Just by Niall’s presence, Louis could feel his tension ease, and this time, he didn’t even have to force the smile that widened on his face. He made a beeline for Niall. Was this breaking protocol to give him a hug? Louis realized he didn’t really care. It’s not like they were going to kick him off within the first five minutes. 

“Do you two know each other?” came Caroline’s voice from behind him, sounding bemused. 

“We met during the interviews,” Louis said, huffing out a laugh before giving Niall’s hair one last ruffle and stepping back. “I had no idea he’d be here, so I’m glad he made it.”

Caroline laughed politely with him, as did a few of the other girls, but then veered him right back on track. “Isn’t that just wonderful? Looks like we already have our first bromance of the season!” She turned back towards the line of girls, gesturing towards him. 

Suddenly, Louis could feel all eyes and cameras on him, and was very, _very_ aware that this part was most definitely going to go on TV. He pushed away the thought, trying not to wonder how he would come across to the thousands of viewers who were just learning about him. 

“Ladies, if you like the look of Louis here, please step forward,” Caroline announced, with an air of anticipation. 

Louis couldn’t help but scoff to himself, because this was something his gay self had never thought he’d had to face again — having to present himself to girls as a worthy male candidate. _It’s only for the show,_ he reminded himself. 

There was a brief silence. Then, two girls stepped up.

Niall whistled, looking decidedly pleased that the girl he was partnered up with did not step forward. Louis almost snorted, before remembering that all of it was being filmed. Yeah, best not to be _that_ arsehole so early on. 

“Wow, look at that! Two beautiful girls have stepped up for you, Louis. Eleanor and Nora, what’s got you so interested in him?” 

Louis took a moment to assess the girls in front of him, both incredibly beautiful, in bright bikinis and with coy smiles. 

“Well, I really like his eyes, which is what I first stepped up for,” said the girl on the left, smooth blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. Her nose looked abnormally small on her face. Or was it that the size of her lips were abnormally _large_? 

She gave Louis a mischievous smile, then added, “and he’s got a really great bum. I couldn’t help but notice.”

Uncomfortable chuckling ensued. Louis had to remind himself to stay neutral, and gave her a polite smile. He knew that the contestants had been told to amp it up for the camera, but this served as a reminder that Louis _really_ fucking hated reality TV sometimes. 

“Thank you Nora,” Caroline said, maintaining her practiced smile. “And you, Eleanor, what do you think?” She gestured towards the other girl, a brunette in a purple neon bikini. Louis didn’t know anything about women’s swimwear, but even he knew that whoever had picked that purple neon suit for her had made a bad decision.

Then again, if Eleanor was uncomfortable in her hideous suit, she didn’t show it. She smiled, giving a one-shouldered, confident shrug. “I think he’s got nice eyes, which is what I first stepped up for,” she said, in a tone that Louis thought was friendly enough. “But he seems cool, now that I’ve seen him talk to Niall over there. I like someone who’s chill and funny.” 

This was an answer that Louis couldn’t help but appreciate — this girl wasn’t laying it on too thick for the cameras, but her answer wasn’t completely bland either. 

“I feel you, Eleanor,” Caroline declared, giving Louis a wink before squaring up towards the camera, “what girl wouldn’t love those beautiful blue eyes?” Caroline then turned toward him. “Louis,” she said, in a slow, serious tone usually reserved for parents speaking to their children, “who would you like to couple up with?”

For a moment, Louis registered the weight of the situation. This was where he was going to be for the whole summer — encapsulated in a bubble of a world, where the lives of all the islanders depended on the sole events in this villa for the next two months. Technically, it was like a new life. Even if it was all for show, it was strange having to make such a decision that would affect his experience for the next two months. 

He’d have to pick strategically. But just based on Eleanor’s words, it seemed as if she was smart and thoughtful, someone that didn’t seem to take this all _too seriously_ — someone who Louis could use on his side if she wasn’t looking for an actual relationship with him. Eleanor seemed friendly enough.

“Eleanor,” Louis decided, watching as Eleanor’s smile widened and Nora’s dimmed. _Yeah, don’t make a comment about people’s bums next time the first time you meet them,_ Louis thought, turning away from Nora. 

Louis moved to stand by Eleanor’s side. “Thanks for picking me,” she whispered as the camera crew prepared to shoot the next contestant. Her words sounded genuine.

“No problem,” Louis whispered back. They sounded like people picking their project partners. This was going to be one interesting summer.

\---

Within the next hour, another two male islanders were introduced and filmed. Louis quickly learned that he wasn’t allowed to say much during this time, because _God forbid_ the producers catch a snippet of him talking while other contestants were introduced. He was sure Carla was already regretting being nice to him earlier. He caught her not-so-subtly narrowing her eyes at him from the corner of the villa more times than he could count, clipboard in hand. He couldn’t read sign language, but he was fairly certain that at one point, she may have signed that she was going to murder his cat if he continued to look as bored as he did. And he didn’t even _own_ a cat.

After the introduction ceremony, a producer ushered all ten islanders onto the main lawn of the villa, and encouraged everyone to “get to know each other, you know, _naturally_!”

Louis scanned the group. Overall, everyone was buzzing — he supposed that they all wanted to get their fair share of TV time before the drama began. For a moment, Louis felt immense gratitude to at least know _Niall_ , of all people. Niall was easily one of the most easy-going islanders, although Louis wasn’t sure he could say the same about his new partner, who had turned out to be Nora. 

A few more people caught his interest, although not in a good way. Liz and another girl (Louis had always been rubbish with names) were already vying for Niall’s attention, while Jasper was flirting so outrageously that Louis wasn’t even sure which girl he was coupled up with. 

“Hey,” he heard a voice come from behind him, and turned to see Eleanor. “Want to have a chat by the pool?” she asked, gesturing towards the artificial blue water. 

_Right_. Time to get to know his partner. Eleanor gave him a small smirk when she saw the expression on his face, and spun around with a flair that made Louis suspect that out of all the other contestants, he had probably paired up with the most sly one. A girl after his own heart, then.

The pool, like the rest of the villa, was mainly designed for display rather than functionality. Although it was beautiful, especially with the view of the landscape, the water in the pool was absolutely _frigid_. Louis had to contain himself from snickering out loud when Eleanor made a show of slowly lowering herself into the pool, only to find it too damn cold after the first 30 seconds to stay in. So much for paradise. 

“So,” Eleanor started once they had settled _next_ to the pool, “I’m curious. Why did you pick me?”

Louis paused for a moment, wondering how to respond to someone that he wasn’t even interested in, in the slightest. “You seemed nice,” he said, realizing how unconvincing that had to have sounded to viewers back home. _This is reality TV,_ he could hear Liam in his head. _Don’t be lame, Lou._

“And your words seemed genuine,” he added, because this was true. “It made me feel comfortable, to know that you weren’t putting on a facade or summat.”

Eleanor nodded, seeming to consider his words. “Thanks,” she replied, adding a wink. “And I meant what I said, too. You do have nice eyes.”

Was this flirting? Damn it. He hadn’t flirted with a girl since he’d hit puberty, probably. Louis was keenly aware of how many cameras had to be hidden around the villa. “So I’ve been told,” Louis said. And while he _knew_ Eleanor was sitting right next to him, he couldn’t help but think back to the last time someone had given him such a blatant compliment about his eyes. 

_They’re like the ocean, Lou. Like I could swim in them._

Louis shook his head to erase the memory. Now was not the fucking moment to be thinking about this. 

“I’m sure you have,” Eleanor said, sliding on her sunglasses, brows raised. She gave him a considering look. If Eleanor thought his answer was strange, she didn’t comment. If anything, she looked more intrigued. Louis was glad she didn’t pry.

After chatting for a bit, Louis learned that Eleanor was a model, which did not surprise him at all. Several of the others seemed to be models, or at least aspiring models. And while he enjoyed talking to Eleanor, he suspected that maybe he wasn’t the only one a bit closed off — they happily — _joyously,_ even — avoided talking about previous relationships, even though it seemed like everyone else was gossiping about past loves. 

Eleanor was easy to chat to, enough so that Louis found himself relaxing around her. _She could be a good friend on the island_ , he thought. And clearly they weren’t expected to be snogging at any time soon, so for now, he was in the clear. 

“Louis, we need you for a solo interview,” came a voice, and Louis looked up to see one of the producers gesturing to a hut that was off to the side of the villa. 

“See you,” Eleanor called, adjusting herself so that she was lying more comfortably on one of the lawn chairs.

“So while you’re here,” a producer said, leading him inside, “most of your interviews are going to be with one of the assistant producers, Zayn.”

Zayn, Louis presumed, was the person that he found in the hut, with high cheekbones and a dark buzz cut. Louis had recalled seeing him before entering the villa, but he’d assumed that Zayn was an islander — and rightfully so. Even from afar, Zayn was one of _those_ classically beautiful people. Not his type, sure, but Louis could appreciate a good-looking bloke when he saw one. 

Too bad. Louis was certain that if Zayn had ever wanted to be on the show, he would have won without having to try at all. Squinting at Zayn, Louis couldn’t help but think that Zayn seemed almost familiar, for some reason. He wasn’t sure why, though — he would have definitely remembered someone as attractive as him.

It wasn’t until Zayn had wrapped up the interview that it hit him. 

Assistant producer. Long lashes. Bradford accent. _Fucking hell_. 

“Alright, lad,” Louis began, after Zayn had discussed some things with the producer. “How long have you been working at ITV?”

Zayn appeared slightly startled that Louis was speaking to him. “Um. A couple months ago, I reckon?” 

_Bingo._ Louis was going to have fun with this one. _Consider it payback, Li._

“Nice, nice,” Louis said, trying to sound casual, as if he really cared about making small talk. “You like it so far?”

Zayn shrugged. So it seemed that Zayn was anything but a talker. “It’s a job,” he said with a slight chuckle. “Pays well.”

Louis had to grin at Zayn’s nonchalance. “A lot of people would love to just hang around half-naked people all day, you know. And _you’re_ getting paid for it.”

At that, Zayn smirked, his eyes crinkling — and Louis was struck for a moment with how much it changed Zayn’s overall personality. “Yeah, except all this neon shit is really hard to look at.”

So Zayn was a man with disdain for neon, as well. “Think of it like we’re bringing a lot of brightness to your life,” Louis quipped. “You’re lucky.”

Zayn laughed for real this time, and Louis smiled. “My friend Liam’s a recruiter for the show,” Louis started casually, making sure to watch Zayn’s reaction. “Warned me about the neon, though, and I’m glad he did.”

Louis was delighted to see Zayn’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh?” Zayn asked, and was his voice a little higher? Was that… a blush? “Maybe I know him. What’s his last name?”

“Payne,” Louis offered, and Zayn’s ears were definitely going red now. _Interesting._ “He’s my best mate.” _And he’s a Payne in the arse_. But because Louis didn’t want to embarrass Liam _yet_ , he would keep that to himself. For now. 

“Oh, um,” Zayn said, shifting his eyes away from Louis’ face. “Yeah, I think I may have seen him around.”

“Yeah, he’s a great bloke,” Louis continued, wishing that Liam could hear him now. He was the greatest friend _ever_. And he wouldn’t let Liam forget it. 

Outside the hut, there was a call from a producer, and suddenly Zayn was shooing him out of room. Too bad. He was just getting started. 

“Great, Louis, I’ll see you for the next interview,” Zayn said hastily. “Do you mind asking Eleanor if she could come over next?” And with that, Louis was left standing outside alone.

So Zayn was his name. Liam’s huge crush. Huh.

If Louis was about to be stuck on an island for the whole summer, courtesy of his best mate, he might as well have some fun. 

Who knew, maybe Liam would thank him for it later.

\---

After a few days spent in the villa and a lot of time getting acquainted with everyone, Louis was starting to get used to it. He’d become more friendly with them as the days went on, reassessing the initial impressions he had made. Nora, for example, although over the top, was also extremely funny once he was familiar with her brand of humour. 

If he was honest, it truly felt like one big, all-expenses paid holiday where he had to hang out with a group of strangers. A group of strangers that, technically, were only there to fight for romantic survival. 

Nevertheless, every day was more or less the same. Wake up, don the pair of swim trunks that looked the most appropriate, and sit by the pool with a group of his choice, which usually included Niall. Try not to suffer secondhand embarrassment from what some of the other islanders were saying. Repeat. 

Overall, it wasn’t a bad way to relax. By the third day, Louis had even forgotten about the cameras, for the most part. 

The gorgeous weather was definitely a plus. Every day, they were greeted with sunshine — a far cry from London’s cloudy weather — and Louis soon became an expert at applying an even coat of sunscreen. That had been the first thing he learned after having missed several patches of skin on the first day, and found himself looking bright red and tight when he had woken up the next morning. Probably not a good look for television.

As for the show, Louis still wasn’t sure whether he should be concerned that the producers had yet to show much interest in his own activities, but he was happy to not be called into the beach hut as often as some of the other islanders.

And while Louis’ activities were certifiably _dull_ in terms of reality TV, there wasn’t anything dull about the events around him. There were developing relationships. There were quarrels. So really, there was drama already beginning to happen on the island. It was just nice that with him and Eleanor getting along swimmingly, he never had to be a part of any of it. Instead, Louis opted to contribute by occasionally including a sarcastic comment about the unfolding drama. The strategy? To keep a low profile, but stay entertainingly relevant. Louis was good at that. Nothing to worry about.

There was one concern that had been brewing in his mind, though. Louis knew he’d have to approach the topic at some point, but he’d been actively avoiding any conversation where there was a risk of someone asking about his previous relationships. He was hoping that no one would notice how he hadn’t mentioned his dating history yet. He was also hoping that no one was curious enough to care. And while he knew that he was on a _dating show_ — i.e. someone would be bound to ask at one point, or at least told to ask about it from one of the producers — well, one could dream, couldn’t they?

Which was why Louis had been especially surprised when it was Niall of all people who decided to bring it up first.

It had been with a rather innocuous group of people that Louis had chosen to sit with — one that he felt comfortable with by now. He was relaxing on one of the lounge chairs, with Nora and Eleanor on his right, when Jasper had received a text on his phone declaring that a new girl was about to arrive into the villa. Apparently, two of the male contestants were to accompany her on a lunch date before the rest of the islanders would meet her.

“It’s a girl this time, which means that I really need to be on my game next week, when we meet a new _man,”_ Liz cooed.

She’d made no secret that she was unhappy with her coupling so far, which was no small wonder. Especially given that her partner didn’t seem to know the difference between green tea and mint tea, and hadn’t been able to steep it for her. Louis wasn’t sure what his name was — Mark? Mike? He’d accidentally called one of them Matt, or maybe that was one of their real names. Whatever, Louis couldn’t be bothered, to be honest. Especially when he didn’t know anything about tea. 

“What we really need is a Sagittarius,” Liz was saying, her arms stretched out against the back of the pool as she kicked her legs in the water. “I think she’d help balance out the way the boys are competing for Lainey.” 

“I’m a Capricorn, so what does that mean for me?” Louis asked. He’d managed to learn quite a few things about astrology in the past few days, though he’d vehemently protested knowing any of that rubbish in the beginning. By the time he returned home, he would probably be an expert.

“You’d be good with me,” Niall joked, throwing an arm around him. “I’m a Virgo. We can make sparks, baby.” He proceeded to make kissing noises before Louis shoved a hand into his face.

“You know astrology?” Liz said, leaning forward, tone intrigued. Maybe a little _too_ intrigued. 

Niall shrugged nonchalantly. “My ex girlfriend was into it. Learned more than I wanted to.”

“Better than my ex,” Nora scoffed, jumping into the conversation as she noticed Liz’s interest in her partner. “He was into amateur magic tricks. Brought a deck of cards to every party we went to.”

“Oh man,” Niall groaned, covering his face with two hands, as if the mention brought back a traumatic experience. “Those are the worst.”

“Right?” Nora exclaimed, prompting the girls into their own conversation about cringe-worthy men they’d dated. 

“How about you, Lou?” Niall said, craning his head toward Louis. “Any annoying exes?”

Niall’s sincere tone didn’t make it seem like he was prying. As Louis’ friend, Louis knew that Niall was genuinely curious. But he still wished he didn’t have to bring it up. If there was one thing he was glad about, though, was that at least no one nearby seemed to be listening.

Swallowing, Louis was vaguely aware of the fact that whatever he said would be recorded on national television. He chose his words carefully. 

“If by annoying you mean someone who exclusively sang ABBA every time in the shower, then yeah,” Louis said, trying to sound lighthearted. He wasn’t quite sure if he had succeeded.

Niall laughed in delight. “That’s nothing to complain about, Lou,” he said. “You’re just probably an old grump.”

“Oi, I’m plenty young,” Louis exclaimed. “Got all the young'uns lined up for me.”

“I’d date a handsome old grump like you, Louis,” Niall said, pinching his cheek. “How are you still single?”

“Just haven’t found the right person,” Louis replied, hoping his voice sounded casual. “How are _you_ still single?” he added, hoping to divert the conversation away from himself. 

Louis nodded appropriately as Niall rattled on, but he wasn’t really listening. _The right person._ All in all, Louis was pretty surprised at how people were throwing themselves at each other on this show, so willing to fall in love when love really didn’t work like that in real life. If he were out of the villa, he would probably be the first person to exclaim it, feet on the table, make an announcement, and yell: _Love doesn’t always work like that, people!_ He would know.

But this was a show exclusively tailored for younger viewers, those who still believed in love. And as a contestant, there was no way he could show his cynicism. Even if he did, he was sure he’d eventually have to reveal his reasons for being skeptical.

And there was no way Louis was going to present all the details of his love life on national television. Especially not in front of the entire United Kingdom, and maybe even to some viewers in America. No way in _hell_. 

Louis wondered if _he_ was watching back home. Wondered what he would think if he saw Louis on the show, in a place that was massively out of his comfort zone. _You_ are _charming, though, Louis,_ he’d say. _You’d charm the entirety of England._

But if there was any reaction Louis would get, it would probably be one of shock. Not just because he had willingly thrown himself out in the world of reality television, but because he was on _Love Island_ , of all shows. And going on a show like this? After all that had happened between them? 

Yeah. Louis didn’t want to even think about that. 


	4. Chapter 4

_“I love a man who knows astrology. It just shows that they care, you know?”_

_Liz, Week 1, solo interview_

\---

Louis decided that overall, being in the villa wasn’t too bad. Sure, a habitual part of him still itched to review legal files and research legal loopholes, but, well. After the initial restlessness had passed and the relaxation had set in, he realized that maybe this downtime _was_ good for him. Perhaps Liam was right. Not that he’d ever admit it.

On the days that weren’t filled with budding romances and whispering chit chat, the producers made them participate in challenges. And although Liam had prepared him for this, Louis still winced when he was tasked with things like drizzling chocolate syrup over Eleanor in the name of reality show entertainment. The only thing entertaining aspect, in Louis’ opinion, was how much cleanup the producers had to do at the end of the day. 

Other days, there were changes to the cast of islanders. New islanders came, and some islanders would leave. There was a girl who only spent a day in the villa before she had to pack up her bags and head home. Louis didn’t even remember her name.

Louis tried not to think too hard about whether he would be happy or disappointed if he were ever voted off the show. Until then, he would be doing what Liam wanted him to do — which was to say, relax, stop thinking, and get a nice tan. 

He was lounging in the sun, appropriately sunscreened, when he heard a shriek and then several giggles. Turning his head, he saw Charlotte, the newest (and thus, single) addition to the villa, holding up her phone like an excited teenager.

“I’ve got a text!” she called out. By now, Louis had learned that a text was big news, a tactic that the producers used to stir things up. Would it be a re-coupling? Or perhaps another challenge? God _forbid_ Louis might have to fling any more whipped cream. He had done and served his time, thank you very much.

Nevertheless, all the islanders scrambled up as if the fake mobile were a homing beacon, eager to receive the only piece of news amidst their monotonous day. As everyone gathered around Charlotte on the lawn, the producers quickly jumped in, rearranging some of the islanders’ positions to capture everyone’s reactions. Ah, yes, the intricacies of reality TV. They were really something to admire. 

After a few minutes of shuffling, one of the producers gave a thumbs up. Nodding, Charlotte straightened up and read the text out loud, pasting on a large smile. It was clear she was taking her job very seriously. 

“Charlotte and Lainey,” she announced, “get dressed for a romantic date night. You’ll get first dibs on Harry and Ethan, but will you survive a double date? Game on!”

A cheer went up from the women, and all the islanders began eagerly gossiping to one another. An unexpected jolt ran through Louis’ body. _Harry._

It was just a name, one that Louis had heard countless times in passing. A name that Louis had begun to grow accustomed to hearing without reacting. A common name. One that had almost, but not quite, lost its meaning. 

Maybe it was because he was hearing it for the first time in this secluded little world, where names were limited to the 11 others currently living in the villa. Or maybe it was because for the past two years, all his loved ones had carefully avoided mentioning the name, had tiptoed around the subject. But when Louis heard Charlotte’s announcement, he froze, feeling a sharp pang in his chest. 

_It’s just a name,_ Louis chastised himself. There were lots of Harry's in the UK. The new islander could be Prince Harry, for all he knew.

Still. It didn’t stop Louis from spiralling, wondering whether the Harry _he_ knew was watching right now, even as the announcement ended and the islanders trooped towards the dinner tent. Had Harry seen him on the show? Did people in America have access to _Love Island_? Would Harry even care? 

“You okay, mate?” Niall asked him, his voice lowered in concern. His friend punctuated the question with a gentle slap on the back that brought Louis back to the dinner table he was now sitting at, which was full of chatter. It wasn’t until then that Louis realized he hadn’t contributed at all to the lively dinner conversation over the past half hour.

Giving Niall what he hoped would be a convincing smile, Louis nodded. “Yeah, I’m ace.”

Niall nodded respectfully, clapping Louis on the shoulder once more before turning back to his meal. Louis didn't know whether his answer was assuring or not, but he was grateful to have someone like Niall in the villa with him. 

Bringing his attention back to his food, Louis tried to collect himself. _Get it together._

It would be pathetic if he spent the whole night haunted by useless thoughts. And so Louis pushed them aside, and threw himself into the nearest conversation.

“...I once dated an Australian lad, he was _such_ a catch,” Louis overheard Nora saying. He watched, bemused, as Nora flickered her eyes towards Niall, who was now delightedly ignoring everything around him except for his plate. Louis snorted to himself. _Typical_. He was fairly certain that she had been trying to make Niall jealous. 

“Australia? That’s like, off the coast of America, innit? Nice weather,” Julia chimed in. She looked up expectantly when she was met with silence. Even Niall looked up in dismay.

Well. Louis was grateful that at the very least, the people around him were a good distraction. Even though he almost always suffered through second-hand embarrassment. You couldn’t win ‘em all. 

By the time they had finished the meal, Charlotte and Lainey had been gone for several hours. That was more than long enough for a “romantic date night,” but then again, Louis supposed that filming would have added a few hours on top of that.

Even later in the evening, other islanders were clearly having similar thoughts. “Jesus, they’re taking their time, aren’t they?” complained Julia as they stood around the firepit. “Do you think they flew all the way back to the UK for their date, or what?” 

Louis could relate. He wouldn’t admit it to himself, but the waiting had started to make him antsy, too. The sooner he could meet this Harry, the better. Then he could get used to it and stop feeling so… _neurotic_ about whatever had happened to him in the past. Harry was probably all the way across the world, for God’s sake. He probably didn’t even know that _Love Island_ was airing. 

It was another half hour before something changed — two producers appeared on the lawn, and a sense of anticipation fell over the contestants. A moment later, Charlotte and Lainey stepped through the archway that led into the courtyard, looking satisfied and a little smug. Louis found himself holding his breath. 

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the lawn and then to the brightness of the entrance as he followed everyone else, their excitement palpable. The chatter became a bit louder, and then all at once, everyone fell quiet. Two men entered the archway, their silhouettes both tall and broad-shouldered. Then the lights shifted onto the new islanders as they stepped out, and Louis caught a glimpse of dark brown curls.

 _Holy fuck_. All the breath he had been holding left his body.

Those curls. He’d recognize those curls anywhere. 

Louis blinked rapidly. How long had he spent in this fucking villa? Was he hallucinating after having been confined for a week? Had a crew member maybe poisoned his food? Because there was no way. _No fucking way_. 

As the man approached, Louis’ legs went numb. He heard the loud rush of blood in his ears; he wasn’t even sure if he was breathing. Because as the new islander walked forward, Louis found himself staring back at the person who he had once vowed to marry. 

\---

Louis’ first thought was, _He’s got facial hair now._

He remembered a time when Harry had been very self-conscious about his facial hair. He had always thought it made him look bad or unkempt, but Louis had been sure that Harry would look incredible. _No, Haz_ , Louis had said encouragingly, snaking an arm around Harry’s waist. _You’d look good. Really good_. And then Harry had blushed, looking pleased, though he’d still decided to shave.

But here he was now, fresh beard stubble on his chin that hadn’t been there the last time Louis had seen him in person. Two years ago, his face had been clean shaven, hair left long, styled into a messy bun. And while that version of Harry had resembled something of a young starving artist, this Harry was a man now, hair tousled and cut, body frame thicker, and with green eyes that sparkled while everyone gushed over him. 

Louis was still lost in his thoughts when suddenly, those green eyes were directed at Louis, making him flush. _Oh, God_. He had never expected to see those eyes again, especially not here, not now. Everything was starting to feel like a dream, syrupy-slow and supernatural. _Was_ he dreaming? 

Someone called Harry’s name, and just as quickly as they had locked eyes, Harry drew his gaze away.

Like a splash of cold water, Louis became acutely aware that he had spent the last ten seconds frozen. While everyone around him continued to titter and whisper amongst themselves, Louis had stood still as a stone, slack-jawed and stunned. Some small, still-functional part of his mind reminded Louis that he needed to move, to step forward and introduce himself like all the other islanders. He needed to act normal. Yes, normal. He could totally do normal. Which meant he would absolutely not run to the gents’ room to vomit just because Harry had entered the villa. Nope.

Louis wondered if his attempt at keeping a neutral face had worked, or if he looked as uncomfortable as he felt. Wondered if his internal monologue, which consisted entirely of _my ex just walked onto this fucking show what the hell,_ was written across his entire face _._ The harsh pounding of blood thrummed more intensely in his ears as he took a step forward, hoping the smile he was plastering on his face wasn’t too weak. If his senses were a transmission gear, they were definitely on overdrive.

Distantly, Louis remembered that there was another islander who had arrived. Introducing himself to Ethan first seemed like a better option at that moment. He needed to stall for as long as he could. To at least collect himself, regain some shred of sanity. Surely he wasn’t going insane, right? He made a beeline for Ethan.

But after a quick introduction and a brief conversation that he certainly didn’t remember, Louis realized that it could no longer wait. 

Turning his body toward Harry, Louis willed himself to keep his gaze straight, pushing away the instinct to look at the ground. As he approached Harry, Louis found himself catching glimpses of the man he hadn’t seen in two years. His dimples, his bashful smile, even the polite way he greeted everyone — it was all the same, but now Harry stood taller, clearly more confident, more self-assured. Seeing Harry again in the flesh felt like a shock to his system. It was as if someone had superimposed a new version of Harry onto Louis’ old memories. 

He couldn’t help himself from analysing every single detail. Not that Harry hadn’t been breathtaking before, but compared to Harry at 23, this Harry had blossomed. The old Harry had appeared younger, a little more sheepish, with traces of the teenager he had been a few years before. But _this_ Harry. The Harry in front of him had gained some weight, had muscle that filled out his black t-shirt in a way that made him look almost athletic. 

When had Harry even started wearing black t-shirts? He was even sporting a gold cross, another fashion choice that was a far cry from the patterned prints he used to wear on their nights out together. Louis couldn’t help but wonder whether the producers had dressed him or if he had chosen the outfit himself. Either way, the new clothing choices made Harry look _good_. Oh god. 

It appeared that Harry’s clothing choices weren’t the only changes. Running his eyes over Harry’s arms, Louis couldn’t help but notice all the new ink; there were a variety of smaller tattoos littering both arms that Louis didn’t have time to inspect, which ran up Harry’s arms to skin hidden underneath his shirt. His eyes caught onto a small tattoo, a “Hi” in his own curling script, now nestled amongst a bunch of other tattoos that Louis didn’t recognize. When he’d first seen that ink, Louis had marvelled at it, had loved how the curling black letters stood out against the pale unmarked skin. It had been the only piece of ink on his arm at the time. 

_I like it._

_Yeah?_ Harry’s smile had been timid, but bright.

_Yeah. Like I’m the only thing that’s allowed to be a permanent part of you._

_You are a permanent part of me._

Swallowing, Louis tore his gaze away from Harry’s arms, redirecting his thoughts to the present. Just like he’d been trained as if he were about to go on trial. _Focus on the facts, don’t get overwhelmed by emotion. Don’t let anyone see what you’re thinking._ Not that he’d even remotely had that composure earlier. 

Faintly, Louis registered Julia’s loud whisper next to him as she talked to some other islander, “He’s so sweet, I’m absolutely in love!” Louis ignored the ugly twist in his stomach. 

As he made his way past Charlotte and Lainey, he felt a hand grab onto his arm and glanced over to see Eleanor reaching for him, a smile on her lips. Unconsciously he felt himself returning the smile, then glanced back in front of him, only to meet Harry’s eyes. 

“Louis, right?” Harry’s voice was low compared to the buzz around him, but the words pulsed in Louis’ ears like heightened electricity. “I’m Harry.” 

_I know,_ Louis wanted to say. Instead, he pasted a smile on his face to match Harry’s.

“Nice to meet you, Harry,” Louis managed, extending the arm that wasn’t holding Eleanor’s. Harry’s eyes flew quickly to her hand before snapping back up and he held out his hand in response, a painfully impersonal handshake. As their hands met, a zip flew up Louis’ arm. Harry's grip was firm in Louis’ hand, and he looked composed and unruffled — there was nothing in his expression that gave away how he could possibly be feeling. 

Louis remembered, with a distinct pang, that Harry was an expert at masking his emotions. Except back then, it had always been Louis who was able to break through the facade, who would know, without fail, what Harry had really been thinking, whether he was tired or upset, just from one simple glance. 

Now, he had no idea what was going on in Harry’s mind. Had no idea what thoughts were running through his head, whether the look in his eyes was mirroring the shock that Louis himself was feeling. Instead, he stared back at Harry, blue eyes on green — a face that had once been so familiar, as he tried to ignore the dagger that was slowly stabbing into his heart. 

Harry let go, and for a second, they held each other’s gazes. Louis realized that neither of them had anything they could say in front of the cameras. A beat passed. Then two, then three. 

_Why are you here?_ Louis wanted to ask, question loud in his head. There was a good chance he was losing his mind.

The cool press of Eleanor’s hand was enough to break him from his trance. And then Harry was turning slightly to introduce himself to Eleanor, smile on his face. Louis realized after a beat that he’d forgotten she was there. But they were a couple, and viewers would see them as a single unit. 

As Harry exchanged pleasantries with Eleanor, Louis suddenly felt a desire to pull away from Eleanor’s grip. His arm ticked awkwardly as he managed to resist the urge to withdraw at the last second. Luckily neither Harry nor Eleanor seemed to notice, much to Louis’ relief. Louis tried to slow his breathing, attempting to bring his heart rate back to something that was somewhat normal. Okay. So Harry was here. _Harry_ , the first love of his life, was _here_. What to do. 

Before he realized it, the conversation between Eleanor and Harry ended, and Eleanor was tugging Louis back towards the firepit. Blindly, Louis followed her lead, unable to think about anything other than the way Harry had looked when they had first locked eyes a few minutes ago. 

So they were pretending not to know each other. They were going to act like strangers again, like all those years had never happened, like all the memories that Harry had occupied in Louis’ head were non-existent. Like Louis didn’t know how Harry’s mouth would scrunch up when he got angry, like he didn’t know how his eyes would light up in the kitchen. As if Louis and Harry, together, had never been together at all.

“He seems nice,” he heard Eleanor say. Louis turned to face her, shooting her a weak smile, and nodded. Tilting her head, she eyed him inquisitively, looking a little confused. “Are you okay?” 

Just then, Louis realized that his shoulders were hunched up. “Fine,” he managed to choke out, dropping his shoulders. “Just. Not feeling that great. I think I just need to go off and sit down for a minute, maybe it was dinner.” 

Eleanor looked prepared to ask another question, but before she could continue, Louis disappeared toward the direction of the house. If it were up to him, he would have left the house completely. But he couldn’t do that now. Fuck. All he could do was walk as far away as possible. 

Louis’ legs were on autopilot, propelling himself through hallway after hallway. He had absolutely no awareness of where he was heading until he found himself outside, in front of the producer’s hut, knocking on the door. 

There was a chance that nobody was even in there, given that two new islanders had just arrived. But before he could think too much about it, Zayn had already opened the door. 

“Louis?” Upon seeing Louis in the doorway, Zayn’s eyebrows furrowed together. “You good, mate?” 

Thank God it was Zayn and not some other producer; at least they were somewhat friends, which made it more likely that Zayn would show him some mercy. 

“Zayn,” Louis began, “I know this is completely against the rules.” He paused, knowing that whatever he was about to say was quite possibly a crazy idea. “But I need you to do me a super huge favour.” 

Zayn pulled back, shaking his head slightly. “Louis, I’m sorry but I ca —” 

Louis put out a hand, interrupting Zayn before he could continue. “Zayn. I just. I really need to call someone.” 

It wasn’t the most convincing argument, but the distress in Louis’ expression must have been enough to generate concern, because Zayn sighed. “You know we take the phones away for a reason,” he replied. “What’s the emergency?” 

“I really need to talk to Liam,” Louis said, hoping he could convey the urgency in his tone. “And do it somewhere I’m not being bloody filmed all the time, even during my sleep.” 

Zayn paused. “Liam?” he asked carefully. 

Louis didn’t have time for slow conversation. “The guy we talked about last week,” Louis pressed. 

Zayn nodded, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Erhm, I might remember him, yeah.” 

“You know he works for ITV,” Louis continued, glancing behind him quickly. The producers were bound to look for him if he was gone for too long. “He won’t break any of the NDAs. I need to talk to him.” 

Something in Louis’ tone must have conveyed his utter desperation, because with a final sigh, Zayn signalled for Louis to step inside. He pointed silently to a small couch that was one of the only pieces of furniture in the room, telling Louis to _sit_ with his gesture. Zayn pulled a phone out from his pocket, unlocking it before handing it to Louis. 

“Sit here and calm down a bit. Don’t do anything stupid, you know what the rules are. I’ll tell the producers you were just getting stressed about the competition, and try to keep this out of the film. But I can’t guarantee anything.” He met Louis’ eyes again, expression stern. “And don’t do it again. I don’t want to lose my job.”

Giving Louis some much needed privacy, Zayn walked into the next room, where Louis imagined there were a multitude of screens displaying every single inch of the villa. Blowing out a breath, Louis sat down on the couch. Bless Zayn. 

Louis dialled. 

“Hello?” came Liam’s voice when he picked up, tone hesitant. He was probably wondering if the random number was a serial killer.

Upon hearing his best friend’s voice, relief surged into Louis’ chest. “Liam?” Louis wondered how frantic his voice was. “It’s me.” 

“Louis?” Through the speaker pressed close to Louis’ ear, Liam’s confusion was clear. Probably because Louis was supposed to be phoneless, and monitored 24/7. There was a pause, and then a moment of comprehension where Liam gasped. “Louis, oh my God. Louis. I have to tell you something.” 

Liam’s urgent tone was enough for Louis to know exactly what his friend was about to say. _Too late, Liam._ “If you’re telling me that my ex-boyfriend is going to be on this show, I already know that. He walked in ten minutes ago. Did you know?” Louis wasn’t able to keep the vehemence out of his voice. “How the _fuck_ could you not tell me, Liam!” 

“I had no fucking idea,” Liam insisted. “I didn’t find out until you were in quarantine. By then, it was already too late.”

 _Oh God,_ Louis thought, slumping against the wall. _Liam really hadn’t known._ Clenching his eyes shut, he tried to breathe. Even if he wanted to blame Liam for not warning him that his worst nightmare was about to take place, he really couldn’t. 

“Fuck, Liam,” Louis whispered, dropping his head down. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t get out of here. I have to be with him for the next few weeks. Oh my God,” he mumbled, suddenly feeling a lot more sick than he was before. “We’re going to be on television. Everyone’s going to know we dated and think that we’re pretending not to know each other.”

Was he even hearing himself correctly? When he said it aloud, it sounded even more insane. His ex-boyfriend was on the same reality television show with him, a _straight_ television show, no less — and they were going to act like they had never crossed paths before.

“No they won’t,” Liam blurted, words rushed. “Your love life won’t be questioned on television, Lou. When I found out, I made all our friends sign NDAs. Got Lottie and your mum to help, too, as soon as I found out he would be on the show.”

Louis took some time to process Liam’s words, feeling numb from his hands to his toes. Would that even work? But Liam knew what he was doing. This was his job.

“I’m so sorry, Lou,” Liam added quietly, his concern evident. “I honestly had no idea until you were in quarantine, and by then the producers had already gotten Harry to sign the contract.”

Louis sighed. Liam did sound genuinely sorry. There was no way his best friend would have thrust him into this mess unknowingly.

“Maybe I should just get myself kicked off the show right now, Li. I can just… I can just act like a massive dick or something, right?” 

“You could,” Liam said slowly. “You would have half the nation hating you, though. Not the best move for when you come out of the villa.”

“Do you think he was surprised to see me?” Louis found himself wondering out loud. “He didn’t react at all.” Hearing himself say it gave Louis a bittersweet feeling. He didn’t know how he felt about Harry’s reaction to seeing him in the villa; he had seemed so distant and different. The person Louis had been a few years ago could have never imagined a situation like this between them. 

“I didn’t see him, Louis,” Liam reminded him softly, tone a lot less hysterical than Louis’ inner thoughts. “But you know, Harry probably knew that you were on the show before he went into the villa.”

Louis sat up, perplexed. “What?”

“The new islanders always go into the villa knowing who the current islanders are,” Liam explained, sounding a little cautious. “They get a short briefing on what’s happened so that they’re not lost when they walk in. He knew you were in the villa.”

The last sentence washed over Louis. “What does that mean?” he said finally, feeling overwhelmed.

“It means that Harry had the chance to bail and he didn’t,” Liam pointed out matter-of-factly. 

Louis tried to process this new realization. Harry had known that he was going to be on the show. Fuck, he’d probably also seen all the promo featuring Louis before the show had started airing. 

And yet he had still decided to come.

“Lou, I know this is the worst thing to happen right now, but we both know that Harry wouldn’t have come in if he knew it would be terrible for both of you. It might end up being fine,” Liam said, words gentle. “You’ve made it all this way, mate, and I’ve been watching every day. You’ve been having a good time so far. And the viewers seem to like you. Don’t let Harry stop you from having a good go of it.” 

“Liam,” Louis started, even though he didn’t really have a point to make.

“You should consider another week,” Liam suggested lightly. “If it’s really that bad, I can get you out.”

Knowing he had an option to leave the show whenever he wanted and that Liam was there to help him gave Louis some comfort. And although it wasn’t ideal, maybe Liam was right about staying a bit longer. Of the both of them, Liam was probably thinking more rationally, anyway.

“Okay,” Louis agreed, feeling a little dazed. Looking out the window, he realized that he would probably be pushing his luck if he continued to talk for much longer. His time was up.

“You should probably go,” Liam stated, saying the words before Louis did. “How did you… the producers don’t know you’re on this call, do they? Whose phone are you using?”

Ah. Louis had almost forgotten. 

“Some assistant producer named Zayn. Told him I really had to call a friend and he let me use his phone.”

“Zayn?” Did Liam’s voice just climb up to a squeak? Louis was feeling better already. 

“Zayn,” Louis confirmed, just as the door opened behind him. 

“Louis,” Zayn hissed from the doorway. “You need to go back.”

Shit. Louis frantically glanced out the window, hoping nobody had caught him in the hut. Now that his emotions were a little more... well-adjusted, he realized that the decision to make a distress call was definitely riskier than he’d realized. Bothering Liam about his crush could wait another time.

“Gotta go,” Louis said quickly, shooting Zayn an apologetic look. “And hey — thank you.” He meant it. Sometimes Louis didn’t know what he would do without Liam.

“Love you man,” Liam said. “Are you going to give the phone back to —”

Without registering the rest of Liam’s words, Louis placed the phone in Zayn’s hand, quickly getting to his feet. “Thanks Zayn. I owe you one.”

“I know,” Zayn called as Louis sprinted out the door toward the bright lights of the villa. 

\---

No one questioned Louis when he returned, which was one of the nicer types of etiquette here. If an islander suddenly disappeared for a while, you acted as if they had just popped away for an interview, and didn’t question them when they returned. It was the least everyone could do when they had such a small amount of privacy. And he hadn’t been gone long — only fifteen minutes at most. 

That night found Louis tossing and turning in his bed, desperately trying to stop his mind from racing. Eleanor could probably feel every move through the mattress of the bed, but to her credit, she didn’t say anything. As much as he wanted to, Louis couldn’t stop himself from replaying the events of the day — the expression on Harry’s face, the way he had looked standing in the firelight after dinner. He had looked so much older, more rugged… and yet Louis could still see traces of the boy he had fallen in love with. 

_God_. Louis was screwed, he was so definitely screwed. He could only pray that the film crew wouldn’t air much of his initial reaction to Harry’s entrance in the villa. Because that would raise questions that not even Louis was ready to think about, though he’d tried his best not to reveal anything on his face.

One thing that was looming in the back of Louis’ mind, though, was that he didn’t know how Harry felt toward him. The pain on Harry’s face when they had had their last, real conversation was something Louis would never be able to forget. And if he couldn’t forget it, he doubted that Harry would have forgotten it either. 

Although sleep eventually came, it wasn’t restful. Louis woke up too many times to count, and by the time light began to filter through the windows, Louis’ body felt as if it had been dragged along the ground. More sleep was probably a good idea. But Louis’ mind had already woken up, actively pelting him with thousands of thoughts at once. Going back to bed did not seem to be an option.

Glancing around the dark room, Louis tentatively slid out of bed, careful not to disturb the other islanders. Beside him, Eleanor was fast asleep, the dark shadows under her eyes suggesting that his inability to sleep had affected her as well. Great. Add _guilt_ to the plethora of feelings Louis was currently experiencing. He really was a trainwreck right now. 

Noting the dimness and inactivity in the room, Louis grounded his feet, and took a moment to appreciate what would inevitably be the calm before the storm. 

Louis still didn’t know what to make of the previous night. To say that last night was _unexpected_ would certainly be an understatement. Louis didn’t know it was possible to be overwhelmed by every single emotion all at once, but it had happened, hadn’t it? How was he even supposed to proceed today? 

_Right, game plan_ , Louis thought to himself. He was going to pretend everything was fine. He would go out, have a nice cuppa, maybe do some of that meditation shit Lottie was always trying to get him to do to relieve his stress. Everything was totally, totally, fine.

Except it wasn’t. Because the moment Louis stepped outside and headed towards the outdoor kitchen, he saw a head of curly brown hair, whistling and working the cooking space as if he had been living in the villa his whole life. 

_Fuck_. 

How had Louis not noticed that Harry hadn’t been in his own bed? Louis almost turned around to go back towards the main rooms when Harry swivelled on the spot, clearly having heard someone emerge from the bedrooms. 

“Louis,” Harry said in a rough voice, and Louis… Louis remembered that voice. It was almost painful how much it clenched at Louis’ heart, because that was the voice Louis had once associated with early mornings, soft and languid.

Louis stared. Harry stared right back, and Louis found his eyes running over Harry’s face, his body, the fucking _spatula_ in his hand. He’d been so shocked by Harry’s surprise arrival last night, he needed a moment to just _look_ at Harry, give himself something to _prepare_ for. Because Louis wasn’t ready, not now, like this.

Because this? Harry with an apron over his naked torso, sleep-deprived eyes blinking back at Louis, was something that Louis had seen too many times before. Something that unburied the leftover memories in his archives, tugging at the last bit of emotion he had been trying to stifle. 

It also didn’t help that Harry’s makeup from the night before had been stripped away, leaving his skin barefaced and natural, accentuating the puffy eyes, the pillow wrinkle on his cheek. Things that were all too familiar. 

This. This was the Harry that Louis had known so well. Unlike the Harry that had charmed all the islanders the night before, who looked at Louis and pretended not to know who he was, this version of Harry felt intimate and recognizable. 

And for a split second, Louis felt as though he had been transported back in time. Back to the kitchen on Sunday mornings, the room filled with the smell of blueberry pancakes, back to the lazy afternoons on the couch. Back to the moments prior to their last conversation, to the times when seeing each other had been an indulgence, before they'd started to become a hardship. That had been a time he had _loved_ being with Harry, and could never have imagined the way Harry was looking at him now — unsure and hesitant, exactly the way he had looked right before they had decided to break things off. 

The moment ended. Harry turned back towards whatever it was that he was cooking, and, after a moment of quiet deliberation, Louis shuffled towards the kitchen. “Morning,” he said quietly, turning to grab his mug. He wasn’t sure what else to say. Where would they even start? _Did_ Harry want them to have a conversation? 

“I’ve already put the kettle on,” Harry said, gesturing towards the counter, and went back to frying eggs. 

Louis nodded in acknowledgement, even though Harry’s back was toward him. An empty cup in hand, Louis moved towards the kettle, when he noticed that two steaming cups of tea were already sitting on the tabletop. 

Two cups. Was another islander also awake?

“That one’s yours,” Harry added, into the silence. “Heard you moving around last night, figured you’d be up early too.” 

Around him, Louis vaguely registered the sound of sizzling back bacon and the chirps of birds in the morning. But all he could focus on was the cup of tea, sitting on the counter, and Harry’s carefully concealed expression.

“Thanks,” Louis said, his heart beating far too quickly for the time of day. Painfully aware of the cameras filming his every move, he took a cautious sip, and almost choked. 

To the cameras, it seemed like a harmless, mundane interaction — a new islander making a cup of tea for his new housemate. But what they couldn’t tell, what they couldn’t possibly have realized was that the tea was perfect. Yorkshire, no sugar, a splash of milk. 

Somehow, Harry had still remembered. And Louis — Louis couldn’t stop himself from thinking back to how it all started.

\---

_Louis was late. He was so bloody fucking late, and when the day was over, he would take all the time in the world to curse the slow pedestrians, London’s shitty transportation system, and the rain. He was in his last year of uni, for God’s sake, and somehow he was still constantly underestimating the amount of time it would take to travel what should have been a 20 minute commute to class._

_A part of him wanted to give up. The week had been shit, his assignments had been hard, and pulling all-nighters for the past four days had made him feel both frenzied and exhausted. And it didn’t help that it was the day of his presentation to all the other scheming law students. They would eat him alive with their criticism if he wasn’t on top of his game._

_At least he had his tea. And while it hadn’t been prepared perfectly, holding it in his hand still gave Louis a semblance of having his shit together. It was the only reason he bothered to stop by Costa every morning, without fail. When everything in his life felt out of control, tea was the logical solution._

_Louis rushed towards the Law building, sighing in relief when he checked his watch and realized that he would arrive just on time. Given that his professor was always exactly five minutes late to class, Louis was certain that he could use that time to get his notes ready._

_He had just rounded the corner of the hallway when he crashed into someone. Instinctively, he grabbed ahold of the stranger to regain his balance, but his left hand shot out too quickly, jolting his tea with it. Liquid spilled down his hand and onto the floor, still scalding hot and steaming. For a moment Louis wondered whether today was the day he was paying the price for all of his previous sins. Because quite frankly, his life was going horribly, horribly wrong._

_It took him a second to realize that he was still clutching the stranger’s arm. Hastily, he let go._

_“Oops — sorry, sorry, wasn’t looking where I was going,” said the person, trying to untangle himself from Louis._

_“Hi,” Louis mumbled, looking around. God, there was tea_ everywhere _. “S’alright, mate…”_ _Louis trailed off, briefly stunned by what was in front of him._

 _The stranger had reached into the pocket of his jeans and was pulling out a string of napkins. And while Louis usually would’ve probably — no,_ definitely — _huffed out a snarky remark in response, for the first time in his life, he was speechless. There was a tall, curly-headed, brown-haired boy in front of him wearing a pearl necklace, crouching on the floor pulling napkins out of his pockets like it was a fucking magic trick, attempting to wipe down the floor._

 _But the thing that struck Louis the most was that this boy was_ attractive. _Like, really, really attractive. Possibly David Beckham-level attractive. Not that he looked like Beckham at all._

_The stranger looked up at Louis sheepishly, and Louis was about to introduce himself when he remembered he still had to do his fucking presentation._

“Fuck,” _Louis cursed to himself_. _“Thanks, mate,” he said in a rush, gathering his things and rushing over to his lecture hall a few doors down. As he opened the door he could hear his professor inside, already talking to the class. Louis looked back one more time, meeting a bright pair of curious green eyes. He stepped inside._

_When he was safely seated in the class, catching his breath and pretending not to notice the unsubtle glares, Louis’ mind wandered back to the boy in the hallway. He should have been practicing his presentation, but damn it, he was stuck on the fact that he hadn't even had time to say thank you to the stranger. And his sleeve was still soaked with the tea._

_Life really wasn’t on his side today._

\---

 _Two weeks passed before Louis saw him again. But when it happened, Louis was not in a rush, was not dead tired, and, was not, as Stan had called him, a “small Frankenstein on steroids.” (Louis would get him back for that comment. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t_ that _short, okay? 5’9” was a perfectly acceptable height.)_

_In fact, Louis was feeling great. But he definitely wasn’t sober. No, tonight, Louis was smashed. And high. Possibly, very likely, both at the same time. And he was having the time of his life. All around him, people were drunk. Someone was singing a horrible, off-key rendition of “I Will Always Love You,” and there was a blond boy sitting far too close to Louis for his intentions to be completely platonic. And while Louis was having a perfectly enjoyable experience, it suddenly got much, much better._

_Amidst all the yelling and laughing and clinking of beer bottles, Louis saw him._

_He watched as the boy from two weeks ago ambled towards the kitchen, wearing a bright orange shirt with cats on it._ He had long legs _, Louis thought to himself dazedly, wondering whether those skinny jeans were really comfortable. Or legal. But the curly-headed lad seemed perfectly at ease, stopping to greet people every few steps, people whom Louis supposed were his friends_. 

_The guy was really, really fucking fit, and it was absolutely unfair. Louis hadn’t spoken to him yet, but he knew that if he had ever had a ‘type,’ this would be it. He spent a few more minutes unashamedly staring at him before realizing what he was doing._

_The boy disappeared through an open doorway that Louis knew led to the kitchen. And even though he was maybe not in the right mindset to go about impressing some stranger, he found himself heading towards the doorway anyway._

_“Robbing the house?” Louis asked when he entered the kitchen. The boy had his back turned away from Louis, and was rifling through the cupboards. At his voice, the boy turned in surprise, almost knocking over the mugs and empty beer cans sitting on the counter._

_When he saw Louis, a grin spread across his face, bright and bashful. “No, I was trying to make myself a cuppa,” he said, gesturing towards the host’s cupboard. It appeared to be very well-stocked, filled with boxes of tea._

_Louis raised a brow and checked his watch pointedly. “At… a party at two in the morning?”_

_The boy seemed unfazed, smiling even more. He moved slowly and a bit clumsily, in a way that Louis thought, to his alarm, was completely endearing. Was it normal for this guy to charm everyone around him within 10 seconds?_

He had dimples _, Louis noticed. Big dimples that carved into both sides of his cheeks and made him look even better than Louis remembered._

_“Sure, why not?” The stranger shrugged, examining the vast array of tea options available to him. He brushed a hand through his hair, held back by a ridiculous pink bandana, and Louis felt an unexplainable urge to kiss him._

_“Are you the lad that spilled my tea the other week?” Louis asked abruptly, even though he knew the answer. He would recognize that face anywhere. Even, apparently, when he was completely smashed._

_At that, the boy turned towards him and frowned. “Yeah, yeah, I think a part of me hoped you maybe wouldn’t remember,” he said somberly. “Sorry ‘bout that. But, suppose I could make you another cuppa here?”_ _he suggested, shooting Louis a cheeky smile. “Lots of tea! Come choose your flavour! I am the master of tea-making, and I shall make it up to you by giving you the finest cup of tea you have ever experienced_.” _He finished with a flourish, waving his arms around like a child._

_Yeah, so maybe this man wasn’t entirely sober either. Which was good. Louis found himself staring amusedly at the two empty mugs on the counter before looking up to examine his tea options._

_In the background, Louis could hear the sounds of someone throwing up in the toilet down the hall. Another person was spraying people with vodka, and a few drops splattered on the kitchen floor from the doorway. And yet, for some reason, Louis could only focus on this moment here, with the person in front of him… this weird man-child who wore pearl necklaces and painted his nails black and for some reason carried napkins in his pocket for emergencies._

_“So you’re going to make me a cup of tea at someone else’s house, with someone else’s mug, and someone else’s tea?” Louis asked._

_“Exactly,” the lad replied. “And you’ll be so thankful you bumped into me and tried my tea_.”

 _And, oh, he hadn’t gone there. Louis was the self-proclaimed_ master _of making tea. Anyone who claimed otherwise (or, God forbid, declared that they were the best at doing it) would need to be challenged by Louis himself._

_“Sorry, what’s your name? If you’re going to pronounce yourself master of anything, I've got to at least know who you are,” Louis replied, an amused smirk gracing his lips._

_The boy winked brazenly. “Harry,” he said. “ But I also go by Harry, Master of Making an Excellent Cuppa_.” 

_This time, Louis couldn’t hold back a snort. He was pretty sure that unless Harry happened to be a connoisseur, he was in way over his head._

_But then again. Louis watched as Harry leaned against the counter with his arms crossed and, well. Maybe it wasn’t Harry who was in way over his head. No. It was definitely Louis. And surprisingly, Louis found that he didn’t mind._

_\---_

For a brief moment, Louis was shocked at how visceral and real the memories had felt — memories that had been locked away for two years. As he stared at the fresh mug of tea in front of him, thinking about them now felt like an emotional punch to the gut. 

God. Harry had been so _open_ back then, so lovely. There was an instantaneous connection that had been undeniable, special. And now… now Harry was once again in front of him, several years older and with so many new experiences that Louis knew nothing about. Had he gotten the job he’d always wanted? Was he a chef, now?

Had he _—_ and Louis felt his heart beat into overdrive at the mere thought of it — had he maybe even dated someone else in the past few years? Finally ended up with one of those aspiring models who always seemed to hang around him when he was in New York, so far away from Louis? 

Fuck. Now was not the time. It was better if he just avoided going down this path while he was ahead. 

Stoically, he sipped his tea again in silence, trying to bask in the familiarity of the flavour in an attempt to relax. _When everything in life is out of control, tea is the logical solution,_ his mum used to say. 

Harry hadn’t turned to look at him again, still managing to keep busy with the eggs on the stove, facing away from where Louis sat. 

And although Louis was in shambles, and quite frankly didn’t know _what_ to feel, he couldn’t help but admire the way the soft cotton of Harry’s shirt draped over his shoulders; how his joggers were slung low on his hips. In the light of dawn, it was easy to imagine what could have happened if they hadn’t separated those years before. The moment felt frayed, worn around the edges. 

But that — that had been a dream for Louis long before, when the younger version of Louis had lived a life of naive assurance of youthful hope. And that time had passed.

Harry wasn’t his to admire, anymore. In just a few hours, or probably less, Harry would be out amongst the other islanders, introducing himself to everyone and inevitably captivating them with his charm. And Louis would have to observe from a distance, and watch it all unfold right in front of him. 

_It might end up being fine_ , Liam’s words echoed. _Don’t let him stop you from having a good go of it._

 _Okay,_ Louis thought. He was going to try. For Liam. For himself. For his non-existent cat. For _someone._

He would just keep to himself for the time being, and maybe it would all blow over in the next week. Maybe, just maybe, Louis could still continue his run here, until he got eliminated — or until Harry got eliminated, even. Either way, maybe he could stomach everything. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too bad after Harry finally coupled up with someone. 

_Harry coupling up with someone_. In the midst of his shock, Louis had forgotten that Harry would wind up as another girl’s partner. 

There was a possibility that Harry would end up with someone else, right in front of Louis. And that was something that Louis couldn’t untwist inside himself and move on from, the reminder that, technically, he had been the one to let Harry go. If he hadn’t, maybe neither of them would be here right now, flirting with girls and wearing stupid microphones that recorded their every word. Maybe there wouldn’t be glass lenses surrounding them all the time, following their every move to ensure that their “love journey” was aired right on national TV. Maybe they’d be cuddled in bed, drinking the perfect cup of tea, or maybe Louis would be getting ready to go to work, kissing a goodbye into Harry’s soft curls before he left. 

But he’d made that choice for both of them two years ago, because of his own uncertainty. And now, it couldn’t be undone. 


	5. Chapter 5

**@BrittBritt888: Julia not knowing where Australia is represents my last brain cell. #LoveIslandUK**

\---

Louis was a calculated man. He was a smart, methodological 27-year old, one whom his boss had always been proud enough to boast about. _Tomlinson is my brightest,_ he would say to his clients. _Always a step ahead._

But Louis had never imagined that facing Harry on a TV show would be his reality. There was really no other way to process this information than wanting to dry heave into a toilet. 

So if Louis’ way of dealing with this whole situation was to avoid Harry, then at least he could say it was methodological. He had spent the rest of the morning devising ways to avoid Harry without looking like he was doing exactly that, while simultaneously being hyper aware of whether the other islanders (or, God forbid, the viewers back home) would notice. Every time he started to think about it, he inched closer to losing his composure. If he even had any left.

_A coward’s move,_ Louis thought as he adjusted the sunglasses on his face — a useful tool for scanning his surroundings every so often. Just to make sure Harry wasn’t in the vicinity. 

And it wasn’t like Louis was _scared_ of Harry. Harry, a gentle giant who had the tendency to trip over his feet all the time — no, Louis wasn’t scared of him. At all. Harry had made him tea, after all.

Scared of _facing_ Harry, though — that was another story. So avoidance was Louis’ best bet. For the time being, anyway.

Luckily there was no shortage of opportunities to hang out with people who were not Harry. The rest of the day could be spent lazing around and chatting as usual, wandering to whatever area of the villa he felt like — as long as Harry wasn’t near, that was. He had grown accustomed to staying alert, scanning the villa every five minutes to make sure he didn’t end up in the same region as Harry. It may have been a little extreme, but, well. So far it was working.

Louis couldn’t help but snort a little at his own thoughts. He knew it was an exaggeration, but he literally felt like he was involved in a military operation. He may or may not have dubbed it _Operation Avoid H_. Yeah, Louis was a pathetic loser. Hopefully no one else in the villa could tell. 

For the most part, avoidance worked, and at least he hadn’t found himself in situations where he had to engage in conversation with Harry, or vice versa. In some ways, it was so easy, too easy, to keep away from Harry. Even though they were still within 100 metres of one another at all times, Louis hadn’t even run into him the whole day so far.

It made Louis wonder if it was mutual, if Harry was avoiding him too. For some reason, the prospect of Harry doing just that gave Louis a slight pang even though he knew that it was hypocritical — _he_ was the one avoiding Harry, after all. But the thought of Harry potentially not wanting anything to do with Louis was a hard pill to swallow. Maybe Harry was just being nice, and respectfully keeping his distance to give Louis some space. Maybe Harry wasn’t as affected by Louis as Louis had been by Harry, and was simply doing the right thing to make sure Louis had some time to adjust. 

He tried his best not to think about it too much as he flitted from place to place. It was kind of like being a cat, really, the way he could lay all day in the sun. Just hang out and go wherever the mood took him. Sit, relax. Pretend his mind wasn’t racing at a hundred miles an hour. 

It was mid-afternoon when Louis found a nice spot on one of the lounge chairs and spent some time listening to Julia and Lainey chat about the usual drama. They had tried to ask Louis about Niall’s interest in Liz, but the conversation had moved on quickly enough when he had told them he couldn’t reveal anything. 

Truth was, Louis didn’t really have much of a clue as to what Niall was feeling at the moment. But he _did_ know that he’d have to tell the bastard about the girls’ chat. He’d known Niall would be popular, even though his friend had revealed to him that he hadn’t been as confident. Louis felt smug just thinking about how right he had been. 

“I think maybe Mike’s head is getting turned,” Julia said, examining her nails. “He’s been into Charlotte, and I saw them sitting together earlier this morning. D’you think I should ask him to have a chat about it? I just want to know where we stand.” 

Louis went back to napping. By now, talking about love interests was a regular occurrence, a part of their everyday routine. This occurred a lot, especially at the villa hut. With no other source of entertainment, gossiping was really the only way to pass time. 

The producers tended to egg them on sometimes, too. The one-on-one interviews were a gold mine for trying to get the islanders to reveal more about whether they were “cracking on” with their partner, or whether they had their eye on someone new. In fact, he was certain that he had overheard Carla speak to one of the other producers about strategies for getting the islanders to reveal _more_ about their thoughts on love. _As if we haven’t exhausted the topic already_ , was Louis’ opinion. But that was neither here nor there. 

Louis couldn’t really pay attention today, though. He ran a hand down the smooth fabric of his gaudy, neon pink swim trunks and tugged on them, pulling on a loose thread as Julia continued to ramble on. God, his shorts were ugly. He could hear his sisters laughing from all the way back home in Doncaster.

From his left, he heard a laugh, fully aware that it was coming from Charlotte. Though he was keeping an eye out for Harry to _avoid_ him, it meant that Louis was fully aware of Harry’s activities at all times. And according to Louis’ Harry radar, it seemed as if there was a girl hanging around him every five seconds. All the girls wanted to know him. 

_Understandably_ , Louis thought to himself dryly. Harry had always been charming whenever he entered a room with new people. Louis snapped the thread off his ugly shorts as he tried to focus on what Julia was saying.

“I think Mike is into you,” Lainey said. Right. They were still talking about Mike. 

“Did she say that?” Julia said ponderingly. Then she lowered her voice: “But I had a little chat with Harry this morning, and he’s straight fire.” 

Louis tried to keep his breathing steady. _Here we go,_ he thought.

“He’s gorgeous and I feel like we might have a connection, you know what I mean?” Julia continued. “It was chilled, and the banter was so much better than it was with Mike.”

Lainey began offering an extremely insightful analysis of Harry’s behaviour in the past five hours, so much so that Louis could feel his jaw tensing up involuntarily. He tried to physically relax his face muscles. It was normal that everyone would want to go for Harry. He was the new person. Louis tried to redirect his thoughts. Mike. Right. Who was he, again? Was that the other guy who wasn’t Mark? They both looked the same. Muscular, tall, et cetera, et cetera. It was hard to tell.

Sitting up as casually as possible, Louis removed his sunglasses, searching for Niall. He surveyed the area, noting that Niall was with a group of other islanders in the pool, where — and Louis internally groaned — Harry also was. 

Another option was Eleanor, who was sitting with a few other islanders a bit further away in the shade. That was probably a better alternative.

Louis stood up, sliding the sunglasses back down on his face. The tightness in his skin reminded him that he would definitely need to reapply some sunscreen soon. Especially if he planned to lounge around for a few hours before getting up again. 

“Louis! Come join us!” Niall shouted as he walked past the group. 

Louis gave a halfhearted wave as he continued onwards. “Going for some shade,” he commented, trying to sound lighthearted. He pointed over at Eleanor’s group, as if it wasn’t already clearly his destination. 

So maybe it wasn’t the smoothest excuse, especially to anyone who knew of _Operation Avoid H_ (no one knew about OAH, but whatever). As both the commanding officer and sole operative of this plan, Louis was the only one who knew how shitty his excuses had been lately. So Niall nodded, as if this made perfect sense. 

Harry, on the other hand, didn’t turn around at all, and showed no acknowledgement of Louis’ comment, and Louis was glad for the way his sunglasses hid his own face. A coward, he was — but at least a coward with reason. At this rate, he should probably wear his sunglasses at all times for the duration of the show. No one would blame him, after all. Maybe they’d just think he had sensitive eyes.

Although steering clear of Harry had been a good idea initially, Louis knew that he would have to face Harry _eventually —_ especially when, a few hours later, Louis realized he had run out of viable locations for OAH. That, and there were only so many times Louis could decline a group invite. His count was already at three for the day — a tad high for a show that exclusively focused on relationships. 

So. He might as well join the group now. The majority of islanders had merged into one hangout near the pool, with some sitting on the grass, and a few dipping their toes into the water with the sun shining brightly above them. With the large group, perhaps Louis wouldn’t even have to speak to Harry.

Inevitably, Louis’ eyes gravitated towards Harry as he approached. Harry was sitting on one of the beanbag chairs nearby, wearing a very bright pair of purple trunks and talking to Lainey and Julia. The purple suited Harry much better than Louis’ neon pink shorts. God. _Unfair_. 

Louis approached Niall, who was engaged in a conversation with a few other islanders, including Liz. Now that he thought about it, he noticed that Liz _had_ been cozying up to Niall quite a bit lately. Hm. Louis would have to ask him about it later, and how his coupling with Nora was going.

Choosing a position facing directly away from his ex boyfriend, Louis took a seat on the artificial grass. Problem was, even though he couldn’t see Harry, the proximity meant that he couldn’t avoid picking up on Harry’s familiar baritone voice against his will.

“So what’s it like being a baker?” he heard Lainey ask Harry. “Are you going to bake for us at some point? I’d love to try some of your food.” 

_Baker?_ The unfamiliar word landed unpleasantly in Louis’ chest. What had happened to Harry’s dreams of becoming a chef after culinary school? 

If some of the other girls had asked the question, Louis would have assumed she’d just gotten his profession wrong — baker and chef were similar, after all. But unlike some of the other islanders, Lainey wasn’t an airhead. 

An uneasy feeling clawed at him. After things had ended between them, Louis had had no way of staying up to date on Harry’s career, but he could never have imagined that something this fundamental to Harry would change. Or at least, fundamental to the Harry he’d known. 

Behind him, Louis heard Julia’s exaggerated sounds of interest as she encouraged Harry to continue his story, sounding infatuated. 

“Louis, you okay? You seem off today,” Niall said, interrupting the twisted feeling that was beginning in Louis’ stomach — and Louis turned to face him, meeting the look of concern in his eyes. Niall seemed genuinely troubled and attentive — something Louis appreciated. But how long could he go on before Niall realized that this… this feeling of anxiety was not going away any time soon? That Louis would probably always be in some state of distress? 

Trying to give what was a convincing nod, Louis replied, “Yeah, just a bit tired. Lots of sun, not enough water.” 

“I’ll get you some water,” Niall offered, and before Louis could say anything, he was off. Great. Now he had unintentionally involved Niall, and had to make sure that his friend wouldn’t notice his weird behaviour, too. 

Louis tuned back into the conversation, where Harry was telling the girls about the restaurant he had once worked at in New York, throwing in anecdotes of all the celebrities that he’d made desserts for. If it had been anyone else telling the story, they probably would have come off as a show off, but Harry had a way of making everything he said seem genuine and modest. Because that had been how Harry always was. Genuine. 

Harry added a detail about a male model sending an entire dish back because there had been a single sprig of mint as a garnish, something that he had _hated_. The ensuing round of laughter seemed too loud to Louis’ ears.

So Harry had really made it in New York, rubbed shoulders with all the stars, all the big culinary chefs. And there it was, the familiar bitterness poking at him, like an old friend who had been summoned to resurface. 

_Get over it. Isn’t that why you pulled away? So you wouldn’t have to feel this way anymore?_

Louis forced himself to straighten up a bit and look around at the pool. So maybe relaxing was no longer an option for the time being. His ability to doze mindlessly in the sun had been lost. Instead, the hazy, carefree emotions of his vacation bubble had slowly been replaced by a constant prick of anxiety in the back of his mind. 

He decided that he needed a cup of tea. Just as he was standing up, he found himself glancing over at Harry, like he had become used to. But this time, when he looked over, Harry’s eyes met his; and he struggled to keep his emotions in check, to paste on a neutral facial expression so things wouldn’t get weird. Quickly, Louis turned away from the group, heading towards the kitchen by himself. 

\---

_“Heeeey Lou! Hiii. Hope your interview went well, I’m out with Nina and Matt and some of the others this afternoon, so can’t call. Let’s chat on Saturday? X”_

_Louis sighed and stared at the message on his phone. There it was, another night where Harry couldn’t make it. And while Louis was happy that Harry had found a nice group of friends to show him around New York, it didn’t make Louis feel any better. He was still stuck in his shitty flat in London, applying for job after job in the hope that he could soon leave the one he currently had. It certainly didn’t help that there was no one sleeping in the bed beside him anymore, no one who woke up early to make him a nice cuppa before heading out, no dates to look forward to. Not even Skype dates now, apparently._

_Louis turned on the telly before sending Harry an “OK” text. He had been doing that a lot lately._

_The thing was, Louis loved him. He really did. But Harry had only been gone three months, and it was already awful. Louis had always known that it would be difficult, but this. This was almost painful._

_He missed him a lot. He missed the way Harry laughed, the way time passed so quickly when he was around. He missed the way he spoke slowly and even (Louis would never openly admit this) being forced to watch_ Love Actually _every month. He missed all of it._

_But Harry had been having a lovely time, apparently. He was always out, always exploring the hidden gems of New York, having the time of his life meeting new people and trying out new recipes he had learned. A few weeks earlier he had met a few models and minor celebrities at some club, and had been spending all his time with them since._

_Louis scoffed to himself. Harry kept insisting that Louis had nothing to worry about, that all of his friends were just friends, and of course Louis trusted Harry. He knew Harry meant it when he said that he wasn’t interested in anyone but him. But still, Harry’s new friends were occupying Harry’s life more than Louis did. All Louis got was snippets through late replies, or calls that were sometimes cut short._

_Louis pushed the thoughts away, trying to focus on the episode of_ Breaking Bad _he had become accustomed to watching at this time in the evening. The TV show was good, it was. But it would’ve been better if Harry was here too, constantly making small comments and observations about the characters as he sat beside Louis._

_The problem was that the more time passed, the harder it was for Louis to push away the thoughts that had been plaguing him lately. He couldn’t shake this feeling of disconnectedness he had been experiencing, no matter how much he tried. And the bitterness was starting to eat him alive._

_Louis wasn’t even sure why he felt that way, but he wasn’t going to bring it up, especially when Harry was so happy in New York. He was living his dream, and Louis wouldn’t be the one to ruin it for him._

_He was happy with Harry. Things were fine. It would only be a few more months, and then he would be back, and everything would go back to normal._

_But then again. They had only been apart for three months._

_Louis rubbed his eyes, a feeling of exhaustion washing over him._ How much longer could he take this? _He wondered to himself. God. It was terrifying to know that he was even thinking these things. Just a few more months._

_He had a text waiting from Harry, asking if Louis was around. But Louis hadn’t opened it. He wasn’t in the mood._

_Instead, he’d continued to check Instagram; Harry’s social media had featured loads of people lately — people he had met in culinary school, random people from clubs, all people that Louis had never met before. And Harry had been doing that a lot — posting things on his story, for everyone to see, but never things specifically for_ Louis _. Louis tried not to think about it too much._

_Am I losing him? Louis contemplated, feeling his heart ache at the idea. The thought troubled him until he drifted off into a fitful night of sleep — and the worst part was that even in his dream, Louis knew he was losing him. And there was nothing he could do._

\---

For all the stress related to the Harry situation that Louis couldn’t seem to escape, there was at least one point of relief, which was the never-ending mystery surrounding Niall’s romantic interests. Ever since Lainey and Julia had mentioned Liz’s attraction to Niall, Louis hadn’t been able to stop noticing her efforts around his friend. And Mark, her partner, had not yet noticed. 

It didn’t seem like Niall was completely averse to the idea, either, with how close to her he was currently sitting. Niall himself was probably exploring his options, too. 

Ah, wasn’t budding reality TV-show love such a beautiful thing? As Niall’s best friend in the villa, Louis figured it was only right for him to tease his friend mercilessly. 

“It’s not that close,” Niall protested, his pink ears giving him away. He looked around nervously, as if Nora would hear. Which was a valid concern. If Liz was about to steal her man, drama was definitely brewing on the horizon.

Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Liz gave Niall a coy look. “You sure about that? Seems kind of intentional to me.” 

Louis tried to hide a laugh as Niall sputtered, caught off guard. Sometimes Louis felt like an audience member, like he was watching the show too, rather than participating in it. Probably because he wasn’t playing a huge role, if he was being honest. 

“Seemed pretty close to me,” Eleanor piped up, appearing out of nowhere. “You literally sat in the _middle_ of the bench right next to Liz. You could’ve sat at the other end.”

“I’m leaving,” Niall huffed, standing up. Louis chuckled to himself. He had only known Niall for a few weeks, but seeing him get embarrassed by girls was probably on his top ten list of Entertaining Things to Watch. 

“Oh,” Liz said, rising from her lounge chair as well. She was probably only now realizing that teasing Niall had backfired on her plan to keep him around. “Niall, accompany me to the kitchen, will you?”

Niall shot Louis and Eleanor a warning look as he scurried after Liz. 

“So Niall and Liz, hm?” Eleanor said, the moment the other couple had left. “That ought to be interesting.” There was a note of gleeful amusement in her tone. Eleanor, for the most part, seemed to enjoy sitting back and watching everything unfold as much as Louis did.

It struck Louis how content Eleanor appeared to be — how, unlike Liz, for example, she wasn’t fighting to find a better partner. And even though Louis probably wasn’t the _worst_ partner, he definitely wasn’t the best, either, he knew that much. He wouldn’t be surprised if all the viewers back home were complaining about their lack of chemistry. Louis was pretty certain that at this point, the only chemistry they really shared was when they were both watching the drama unfold in real time, right in front of them, without really being _involved_ in the drama themselves.

“I’m just waiting for a storm to hit,” Louis told her, smiling as he tracked Nora’s movements on the other side of the villa. She had definitely noticed Niall and Liz in the kitchen. The glint in Eleanor’s eyes was enough to tell him that she had noticed, too. 

Leaning in, Eleanor whispered conspiratorially, “Nora is definitely catching on. It’s going to be an… _eventful_ evening, I think.” 

“Oh, it’s about to get interesting, Eleanor,” Louis said, waggling his eyebrows. “Sit back and enjoy the ride that is reality TV.”

Eleanor looked up at one of the cameras quizzically. “Are we allowed to acknowledge that we’re on a reality show? Are they going to include that in there?” 

Good point. “It would be really meta, wouldn’t it?” Louis replied. “Maybe we should start inserting it into every sentence and see if they leave it in.” 

“I heard we’ll be having a ceremony soon,” Eleanor said, changing the topic. She paused for a bit before continuing, “Who do you think will couple up? 

“Hm, I’m not sure,” Louis said, glancing around the lawn, noting the different combinations that were possible. He had been putting off the thought of a recoupling, because recouplings also meant eliminations. But Eleanor was right. There were three new single islanders — Charlotte, Ethan, and Harry — and they needed to pair up with someone. Louis was sure that the viewers would be itching to see a recoupling as there hadn’t been one since the coupling ceremony on the first day. 

Eleanor laughed, giving Louis an eye roll. “Alright, I guess I know who won’t be helping me figure out the couples.” 

Louis continued scanning the villa. Harry was sitting on a deck chair a little ways away (Louis noted this only as part of his absolutely unbiased, observation-based analysis) and Louis noticed that he had glanced over in their direction when Eleanor laughed.

Harry hadn’t been there earlier, Louis was sure. His Harry radar would have brought it to his attention. 

“Right,” Louis trailed off, hoping she wouldn’t notice that he’d completely zoned out of the conversation for a second. He wondered what Harry thought of him being on the island. If it was unexpected to see Harry here, Louis imagined that Harry must have been equally surprised when he’d first found out Louis would be on the show, as well. And — what was he supposed to be assessing again? 

He saw Eleanor glance over at Harry quickly, but she said nothing. “Personally,” she began, “I think Charlotte will manage to steal Mike from Julia — he’s been practically breaking his neck any time she’s nearby. I know Julia was proper annoyed about it, saying something about how Charlotte’s breaking girl code, but I think they could both do better than _Mike_.” She gave a small wince. 

Louis let out a chuckle at how accurate Eleanor’s analysis was. He’d definitely noticed Mike’s focus. 

He let their conversation lapse into silence. A fun couple for everyone back home, they certainly were. But after having had some time getting to know her, Louis could sense that the light chitchat was a cover up — Eleanor had clearly come over with something on her mind. If she wanted to bring something up, she would probably do it now — especially since it wasn’t like they’d gotten to spend too much time alone ever since their first day in the villa. 

And the thing was, they probably should have been spending more time together. Compared to all the other islanders, Louis and Eleanor weren’t necessarily gushing over each other the way the viewers likely expected them to be. And whereas other girls in the villa may have preferred their partner to bend over backwards in an attempt to impress them, Eleanor hadn’t really been like that at all. Plus, she hadn’t seemed that eager to talk to too many other guys since the first day.

But then again, there was a possibility that Louis had misread the whole thing, and that Eleanor _wanted_ someone who would fall head over heels for her, instead of being stuck with the first guy she had partnered up with. 

Louis didn’t think that that was what she wanted, but he couldn’t be sure. He did enjoy spending time with her, though, especially compared to the other women in the villa. Eleanor was extremely observant, and always seemed to know what everyone was up to. And even though Louis wasn’t attracted to her romantically, he couldn’t help but think that out of all the girls, having someone with sharp eagle eyes was the best partner in crime he was going to get here. 

When they had finally exhausted the topic of who would best be paired with who, Eleanor turned to him. “Are you alright, Louis?” she asked carefully. 

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t just Niall who had noticed that something was off. 

Throwing her a grin, Louis tried for casual. “I’m fine. I’m great, actually. What’s there to complain about here?” Even Louis could hear how forced his words were.

Eleanor tilted her head toward him, considering for a moment. “Well, if you want someone to talk to, I’m here. We’re on the same team, right?” 

Her words were searching, intentional, and Louis wondered if this was what she had wanted to say. _Team_. It was an interesting word choice, using the word _team_ instead of _couple_. “I think we’re good, yeah?” Louis asked, gauging her reaction and seeing no uncertainty in her expression. 

Eleanor gave a solid nod. “Me too. I mean, I think we’re getting on well, right?” 

Louis tossed her a smile. It was funny, she seemed just as relieved as he was. “Yeah,” he said. “Then I feel like we’re on the same page here. That’s good.”

Eleanor hummed in agreement, and with that, the conversation was over as soon as it had started. Something about it reminded Louis a little bit of a business deal. 

Then she smirked at him, pointing over to the pool where Liz was in the middle of trying to arm wrestle Niall. Liz’s persistence was admirable, for sure. 

For the second time that day, Louis was glad that he was partnered with someone like Eleanor. She managed to distract him with some more funny gossip about several of the islanders. Louis found himself laughing out loud a few times, which was a nice upturn to his afternoon. He did like Eleanor. He just couldn’t let her know about Harry, both in the past and present. There was no one on the island that he’d trust with that secret yet.

It wasn’t until Eleanor flitted away to the bathroom that Louis took some time to think. So, Eleanor had noticed that he hadn’t been entirely... present today. If Eleanor had noticed, it was possible, even likely, that everyone else had noticed as well. 

Which meant Harry, a person who had once known Louis better than anyone else, would definitely have noticed.

Was Louis overreacting? Clearly Harry was handling this better than Louis was; he had been making the rounds all day in the villa, and having pleasant conversations with practically everyone except for Louis. It wouldn’t be surprising if Louis had said only a tenth of the words that Harry had said today, and Louis had never been the silent type. 

What was it that Liam had said during their call? _It means that Harry had the chance to bail and he didn’t._ Well, if Harry thought he could handle it, Louis could too. For now, at least. 

A sound caught his ears, and Louis’ head snapped up instinctively. Belatedly, Louis registered the sound as someone clearing their throat.

Harry, in particular. 

Before he could fully take in the realization that he had recognized _Harry’s_ throat sound out of twelve other people, Harry called out the familiar refrain from across the lawn: “I’ve got a text!” 

_Oh, no._

Like a cluster of flies, everyone rushed toward him. And as soon as everyone was settled, Harry read aloud: “Harry — you, Charlotte, and Ethan have your chance to finally find your partners in bed… if you can! Hopefully you’ve been missing the cuddles, because there will be a recoupling tonight, and girls choose. The last boy left standing will be eliminated. Sleep tight.” 

Louis was pretty sure that several exclamation points had probably followed the end of the text, but Harry’s voice conveyed everything in a matter-of-fact tone, without enthusiasm. Which was coincidentally exactly how Louis felt at the moment. 

Though Eleanor had just mentioned it, Louis hadn’t really expected a recoupling to happen _quite_ so soon.

And yet here he was, an hour later, standing in an evenly spaced row in front of the firepit with the other male islanders. They stood as if they were about to be inspected, chests puffed and hands behind their backs, pretending not to feel the evening breeze that was slightly too cool for the outfits they wore. The six girls, on the other hand, sat in front of them on the white semicircular bench, a space between each girl to ensure room for their new partner after they had been chosen. 

They all wore their nicer evening clothes, having been directed to change out of their swimsuits and to put a bit more of an effort into their appearance. Such a thing could possibly make or break their relationship (or that was what the producers had implied, though Louis doubted that anyone here preferred _more_ clothes over less). But if Louis had to guess, it never hurt to provide the viewers with a different type of eye candy. 

Harry had been directed to stand next to Louis in the line, making Louis uncomfortably aware of his presence. Harry wore a black button up and skinny jeans, which at first glance seemed quite similar to the rest of the boys’ plain outfits. 

But in fact, it was Harry who had taught Louis to recognize a nice silk blend, and Harry’s shirt shone softly under the harsh floodlights that were being used for filming. Upon closer inspection, Louis noticed the fine edge of yellow along the hem of the shirt, and a delicate flower embroidered on the pocket. 

It was a far cry from the tight black t-shirt and the gold chain that he had worn on the first day. Instead, what he was wearing now seemed a lot more fitting.

With the boys’ arms all crossed behind them, Louis’ elbows were almost brushing Harry’s. It took all of his willpower to ignore the slight gap between them, the small spark of electricity flickering in between that Louis was sure he was imagining. _Something about friction and skin, right?_ He should have paid attention in science class. 

But he tried to direct his attention in front of him, to where Caroline stood, holding a stack of cue cards with the golden _Love Island_ logo printed on the back. As had been explained at the very beginning of the show, Caroline directed the girls to spend a few minutes thinking about _why_ they were making the decision to couple up with the boy they chose, and to prepare a few sentences. Some of them were mumbling under their breath, practicing their lines. 

Though Louis hadn’t expected to be nervous, he found that he was. He noticed that he wasn’t the only one, either. The air of tension was thick around him, and it was clear that some of the other islanders (if not most) were much more invested in their relationships than Louis was in his. Tonight, there was a chance that any of them would be eliminated. It was all up to the girls.

He’d taken the brief chat with Eleanor quite lightly, but he suddenly knew how stressful it could be standing up there, knowing that none of the girls might choose him. If Eleanor didn’t, he wasn’t sure who else would. Sure, Louis had developed friendships with a few others, but none of them resembled anything even close to romantic. The reality of being voted off the island was looming. 

Tonight, Eleanor was third on the bench, meaning that Louis had a little while to wait before he knew for sure that he’d be safe. He recalled watching the show with Liam, laughing at the islanders who seemed nervous or stressed — it was only television drama, after all. But now, standing here, he understood the anxiety. Even after a week and a half, this villa had become his entire life. It would be impossible not to be invested. Even if it was just a show. 

Finally, Caroline received the signal to go ahead. She began her introduction to the recoupling, then gestured to Charlotte as the cameras rolled. 

Louis began to zone out as Charlotte stood up and began describing what had attracted her to the man she was about to choose. As usual, his mind wandered back to Harry. 

Harry had talked to all of these girls — how could they not choose him? As much as Louis had tried to ignore the number of times he heard Harry’s laugh from the other side of the villa, he hadn’t been completely blind. Harry would be the obvious choice for a lot of these girls. And the thought made Louis’ stomach squirm.

And who would choose Harry? It seemed likely that either Nora or Julia would choose Harry, both of whom were clearly not right for him. Harry needed… someone who wouldn’t go on a reality show to find true love. But then again, _Harry_ had applied for this show with his own reasons for being here. Did Louis even _know_ Harry anymore?

Once Charlotte had sat down with Mike, Julia stood up. As soon as the cameras were on her, she launched into a detailed description of someone’s sunny personality, his goofy sense of humour, his _brown curls_ …

It was obvious who she was going to pick, and yet, Louis was holding his breath in anticipation. His heart began to beat a little more quickly than he would’ve liked.

A member of the camera crew panned over the row of boys while another zoomed in on the girls, and Louis glanced over at Harry as subtly as he could. Harry was definitely blushing. He had a small smile on his face and was shifting back and forth, something that Louis knew he only did when he was more anxious about something than he was letting on. 

Behind his back, Louis clenched and unclenched his hands. Julia was definitely about to couple up with Harry — she’d been talking to him all week. 

Julia was nice, Louis had seen that. But did they even have anything in common? He tried to keep his face neutral, hoping that at least it would look like nerves to the audience. 

The producers were fussing over Julia now, making her take much longer to declare her couple than Charlotte had. _Just say it,_ Louis thought to himself, frustrated. The waiting was killing him. _Just say it’s Harry so this can be over._ Not for the first time, Louis wondered whether there was a way he could bribe Carla into making the pauses less stilted and exaggerated. He was sure all the lads here would appreciate it. 

Julia took a deep breath, a bright smile on her face. “Harry.” 

The routine round of applause followed, and Louis forced a grin as Harry walked over to Julia and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. They sat down together, with Harry settling in right next to Eleanor. Julia moved closer and nestled under Harry’s arm, looking quite pleased with herself. 

Try as he may, Louis couldn’t help but stare at Harry, willing himself to read something, _anything_ on Harry’s face. And for a brief moment, Harry caught Louis’ eye as he looked away from Julia — they were the same dazzling shade of green, but for once, they were also clear and unguarded. 

Louis couldn’t look away. The connection between them, caught in the moment like the thunder before lightning — for the first time since he had stepped into the villa, _this_ was Harry. The Harry that Louis recognized. 

The moment had only lasted one second, but it felt like an eternity. Before Louis could even let out a breath, Harry looked away. 

Then it was Louis and four others left standing in front of the girls. _What was that?_ Louis wanted to ask. He forced his eyes away from Harry, and fixed his gaze on Eleanor, who was up next. 

“Eleanor, it’s your turn.” Caroline gestured to Louis as she began their recoupling. “You’re currently coupled up with Louis. He was your original partner and chose _you_ on the first day. You must now decide if you’d like to stay coupled up with Louis, or recouple with someone else.” 

Eleanor stood up. Louis knew that it was likely she’d pick him, but it still felt like his fate was in her hands. He felt a bit like vomiting up the nerves in his stomach. He’d worked so hard to get here. And as much as he’d joked about the show, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave just yet. If only Liam could hear his thoughts now. 

“Ever since I met this boy,” Eleanor began, smiling directly at Louis, “he’s brightened my time here.” 

Louis smiled back at her hesitantly, a bit on edge. He watched as her gaze shifted towards Ethan, and he froze the smile on his face. Was this just for the drama, or had she also been getting to know him? 

“This boy is always making me laugh and I know that we really have a connection. So the boy I want to couple up with is…” 

Eleanor trailed off into the signature pause, which was to say it was _extremely long_. Louis waited as the camera zoomed in on his face, lingering for a longer period of time than everyone else. It made sense, especially since they’d expect him to be devastated if Eleanor chose someone else. 

Belatedly, Louis realized that he should have probably prepared a poker face if he was to be eliminated tonight. Too late.

“Louis,” Eleanor declared, and relief flooded into Louis’ veins, exhilaration spreading throughout his body. _Looked like the poker face wasn’t necessary after all._ Louis squinted into the floodlights that had suddenly been thrust into his face, aware that his wide grin probably looked like a grimace. He gave an awkward side hug to the lads besides him before walking over to Eleanor, who held her arms out to him, smiling.

As she brought him into a hug, there was the briefest moment of tension as they glanced at each other, gauging if they should kiss; most of the other couples had — but he and Eleanor were nowhere close to that level of comfort with each other. He had the sense that she wasn’t extremely eager to kiss him either. He filed the thought away for later. 

For now, he was happy to revel in the relief that came with not having to leave the villa yet. He gave Eleanor a quick peck on the cheek before sitting down on the bench, painfully aware of Harry, who was sitting right next to Eleanor and was steadfastly avoiding Louis’ eyes. Louis didn’t know whether that made him feel more relaxed or troubled. 

Perhaps it was because Louis’ nerves had settled down and he was no longer being scrutinized so intensely by the camera crew, but the next two recouplings passed by quickly. Although it was a bit painstaking when they had to refilm Lainey’s declaration a few times so that she could get over her nerves, Louis could sympathize with her. It reminded him of the many presentations he’d had to do for his undergrad classes — the time leading up to the event had always been extremely tense, but he was always filled with a sense of serenity once it was over.

The only thing that stopped him from feeling completely at ease was Harry, who, Louis noticed, was unable to keep still. Louis was keenly aware of how Harry kept _fidgeting_ next to Eleanor — constantly adjusting the rings on his fingers, or going back and forth between draping his arm around Julia’s shoulders and adjusting his position on the bench. It made it hard for Louis to ignore him.

Still, he tried — tried to play his role of Concerned Islander on television, exaggerated some of his expressions at the right times, trying to pay attention to the declarations rather than to the boy on Eleanor’s left. He wasn’t completely successful. 

The next part of the recoupling that evening involved the elimination, which was more difficult than expected, even if he wasn’t technically involved. The producers dragged out Nora’s choosing by adding a substantial amount of pauses, ramping up the tension of waiting to find out who would be eliminated. Nora looked conflicted, constantly glancing between the two islanders left standing, though Louis knew that this was more for the sake of the show and producers. Niall had been the one she wanted, and he had already been chosen by Liz. After what felt like an eternity, she finally chose Jasper, and everyone joined the group hug to say goodbye to Mark. 

Even Louis had only known Mark for less than two weeks now, it still felt awful to know that he would be leaving when everyone else got to stay. At least Louis didn’t have to be confused whether he was talking to Mark or Mike, anymore.

Still, Louis felt surprisingly emotional as they said goodbye. As he joined the group, reaching his arms out to everyone, Louis felt the brush of a familiar strong hand on his back, the hard metal of rings applying a different sort of pressure against his skin than the other hands, before it disappeared. 

Louis tried not to dwell too long on the feeling, a sweet ache that lingered even long after they untangled themselves.

\---

It was later that evening when Harry presented a distraction to Louis’ thoughts once again. Upon wandering out into the communal bedroom, Louis spotted Harry and Julia standing at their bed, deciding who would sleep on which side. 

If Louis had thought that it had been hard to see his ex flirt with plenty of other girls, seeing the closeness that ex shared with someone else was much, much, worse. Logically, he’d known that Harry would end up in a couple, but it didn’t make it any easier to deal with. He could hear them laughing, still discussing the merits of side versus back sleeping.

Harry made a joke that Louis couldn’t hear and Julia put her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle her giggles. Louis looked away. His own bed was in front of him, the bright white covers pulled back and wrinkled from where he slept on the left side. 

He had always slept on the left side. Even with Harry.

Louis tried not to pay attention as Julia chose the right side. Instead, he climbed into bed next to Eleanor, whose back was already turned toward him. And though he tried his best not to linger on these thoughts, he couldn’t help but compare how different it was to wake up next to Eleanor. When he and Harry had still been together, their legs had always been tangled in the morning, temples touching, Harry’s heavy arm stretched across Louis’ waist. That had been one of the things he’d missed most when Harry had moved to New York. And now Harry was here, just a few beds away from his. Sleeping with someone else. 

Tonight was another sleepless night, almost rivalling the night of Harry’s arrival into the villa. It reminded Louis of the early months post-breakup, when he had always done his best to avoid picturing what Harry was up to. It had been easier that way, easier to dull the pain.

And now the pain was back. The reminder of Harry was back. Except now, Louis couldn’t just _try_ to stop thinking about Harry, especially when Harry was right there, eyes shut, leaving remnants of Louis’ memories in someone else’s bed. 

Most nights, many of the islanders shifted in their beds, unable to get a good night’s rest for whatever reason. Tonight, Louis couldn’t help but wonder which one of them was Harry. 

\---

The next few days passed in a blur of chats, outrageous amounts of sunscreen, heat, and drama, with several of the islanders worried about how their new couples were working. But it wasn’t quite enough to distract Louis from Harry, who always seemed to be in his peripheral vision. 

Even though it was unspoken, it was clearly awkward between them after the recoupling, for whatever reason. Louis had thought Harry was better at acting normal than him, but Harry made no deliberate move to approach or speak to Louis. The only consistent interaction they had was in the mornings, when Louis arose to grab his plate of eggs. As the best cook in the villa, Harry had taken it upon himself to make breakfast every morning. 

One night at dinner, Louis stepped up to the table after most of the boys had sat down. Meals were small affairs, since the producers separated boys and girls to limit the drama while they weren’t being filmed. This meant that there were only six spaces at the table, and four of them were filled. 

There was a space next to Harry, which was closest to him, and one at the other end of the table. He felt both Harry and Niall’s gazes follow him as he walked around the table to the chair on the other end. It hadn’t made much of a difference, since the table was so small, but the distance still helped a bit. He recalled the brush of Harry’s elbow against his at the recoupling, light as a feather, but attracting all of his attention. Better to avoid that. 

Harry remained much quieter than normal for the rest of the evening, though he was usually the most friendly and enthusiastic contributor to the dinner conversation. 

After that, he’d noticed that Harry always sat at one end of the table and not near the middle, and was always one of the first to be at the table. There was mostly an established seating pattern each night from force of habit, but Louis knew that Harry’s position was deliberate. Which made him pretty sure that the success of _Operation Avoid H_ was partially due to Harry’s own efforts. 

So, it was mutual. Louis didn’t know what to think about that. 

\---

“You’re telling me that you get turned on over _tennis_?” Charlotte said, looking at Jasper in disbelief.

Two glasses of wine and a circle around the firepit later, everyone was chatting about which sport was the sexiest, though Louis knew that this conversation would’ve probably occurred regardless of whether they were drinking or not. Everyone just seemed to enjoy chatting about these things, apparently. And of course, the obvious answer was _football_. Though he wasn’t sure if he would be able to justify that decision without accidentally outing that David Beckham had played a big role in his realization that yeah, maybe he wasn’t that into girls after all. Louis snorted at his own thoughts. 

Just as Jasper was about to say something that was probably exasperating, Charlotte’s phone chimed. 

“Text!” Nora hollered.

Charlotte eagerly pulled her phone out, reading the new message aloud. “Good evening, islanders! Tonight you’ll be getting to know your fellow islanders very well. _Very, very well_. #truthordare #daretoshare.” 

Louis groaned. He definitely wasn’t feeling ready for emotional vulnerability, or whatever the producers were hoping for through this game. At the moment, he’d have far preferred to be forced down a slide into a huge pile of slime, or to become involved in a pie slinging challenge. Something nice, fun, and messy. Something not too hard to think about. At the moment, he’d even have preferred a kissing challenge — they hadn’t had one of those on the island yet, but he knew it was a classic. 

But fuck it. Louis sighed internally. Tonight, Louis was going to try to have a good time, even if it meant participating in a shitty game. How pathetic would it be to get kicked off for constantly moping? That would be a new low, even for _Love Island_. 

Of course, “having a good time” these days was easier said than done. But it was a step, at least. A step to accepting the unexpected circumstances of the past few days — and maybe with acceptance, things could be a lot easier. Maybe.

A few of the production crew appeared from one of the huts off to the side of the villa and began setting up the game. To no one’s surprise, there was a seating chart, and Louis was placed off to one side of the round bench. The game was straightforward, they simply had to take turns choosing a truth or dare card. 

Louis looked at the stack of challenge cards sitting on the table, the _Love Island_ logo bold on the back. The air buzzed with nervous excitement. A few islanders were fidgeting with their extra drink, however, most had downed them in a few minutes to try and get a bit more buzzed than they’d been able to in the past two weeks. 

Zayn was handing out red cups to each of the islanders, and though it was a bit hard to tell in the dim lighting, Louis was pretty sure the drink he received was bright pink. It tasted bright pink, at least. Unfortunately, it also tasted quite weak, but he supposed that was to be expected. At least they’d been provided with alcohol for the night, because he clearly needed it. 

Soon, everyone was settled in their seats, squished together, the fireplace radiating a golden glow over their faces.

The game picked up almost as soon as it began. It quickly became clear that despite the producers’ warnings to balance the questions between islanders, certain people were the group favourites to pick on, and had to respond to more of the challenges. 

“I got a truth, so, hmm…” Nora moved the card back and forth in her hand, and then unsurprisingly directed her attention to the boy directly across from her. “Niall, have you ever been handcuffed in bed?” She gave him a teasing grin. Louis had to actively stop himself from snorting. 

Niall let out a loud bark of a laugh, having given up with trying to divert questions after being asked five in a row. “Now normally I’d keep that to myself, but since I can’t… yes. And it was great. I won’t say more.” 

The end of his sentence was drowned out by the hollering from several of the boys, Louis included. Nora and Liz had particularly expressive faces, though Nora looked much more intrigued by this announcement than Liz did. 

Although Louis wasn’t initially too excited about the game, he found himself enjoying it immensely, laughing along with all the other islanders. He proudly revealed that he could tie cherries with his tongue, and convinced Lainey, who was sitting next to him, to reveal the most embarrassing thing she’d ever said in bed. It felt good to finally have the buzz of alcohol in his veins again. 

At this point, Zayn stood off on the sidelines, now in charge of monitoring the amount of alcohol everyone was bringing back with them when they sat down. Louis briefly felt a sense of pity for the assistant producer. Surely Zayn hadn’t signed up to fly all the way to Spain, only to end up babysitting a bunch of fully grown adults. Or, well. _Mostly_ babysitting a bunch of adults. Louis was sure that Ethan was probably still stuck at the mental age of fifteen. He’d have rather been drinking with _Zayn_ than many of the other people here. 

Then again, Zayn didn’t seem to mind that much. There were a few bottles on a small table with the cups, but Zayn was pouring liquid into them distractedly, wearing a small, soft smile as he tapped on his phone. He barely glanced up as Louis snagged another glass of pink liquid. 

Louis sat down again just as Charlotte grabbed a card and turned towards him. “Louis.” She smiled smugly. “Have you ever had a one night stand?” 

The mixed noises of interest and encouragement around him rose as he pondered the question. There were a couple groans, too, which was fair. This had been probably one of the easiest questions that had been asked thus far. And normally, Louis would’ve answered the question and moved on, but something about this moment made Louis instinctively glance to where Harry was sitting, on the other side of the firepit between Julia and Ethan. Harry was watching with a blank expression, looking politely intrigued like everyone else. 

“Yeah I have,” Louis began, feeling a little bit sick for even having said it. And for what? It was perfectly normal for a guy like him to have experienced a one night stand. Louis almost thought that it was a waste of a question, and would probably get cut out of the show because it was so easy. But that didn’t change the brief sense of panic Louis felt when he had to answer it in front of everyone, in front of _Harry_. 

Before anyone began to holler, and — please no — ask for more details, he quickly added, “But none of them were that great. Missing something, I ‘spose.” 

Eleanor had schooled her face into an expression of mild concern, and Louis was sure that all the cameras were zooming in on them right now. Niall hooted at Louis’ admission and stood up from a few seats away to give Louis a pat on the back, which was quite awkward because of the angle, but Louis appreciated it nonetheless. 

The thing was, he hadn’t lied at all. Harry knew about the one night stands he had had before they began dating — and those had been no match whatsoever to the chemistry he had with Harry. What Harry couldn’t possibly know about were those times he had tried to get with people _after_ their breakup. And those… those had been so awful that Louis had just blocked them off from his memory, never to be thought of again. 

He remembered that the first few times he had tried, he had always left early, feeling a little ill and wondering when he would just get over it, fucking please, so that he could live his life. But after trying for a few months, Louis had given up and decided to avoid hookups if he could. 

Julia went next, grabbing a card quickly. After reading it, she then glanced around the group, spending a bit of time building up the anticipation, a pleased smirk on her face until she finally picked the islander she wanted to question. Louis knew she would be picking Harry the moment he saw her glance at him before grabbing the card. 

She read it out loud, looking satisfied and a little _too_ excited. “Harry, have you ever hooked up with anyone of the same gender?” 

There was a collective pause. Everyone in the circle seemed to be holding their breath, although Louis knew that it was more than likely that _he_ was the only one who wasn’t breathing, because, _fuck_. Louis felt his throat close, and an all-encompassing feeling of dread filled his body. He didn’t know what would be worse… Harry denying that he’d ever been with another man, or Harry being open, _honest_ about it, leading to more questions from the others? The Harry that Louis knew would never lie about his relationships. If this version of Harry denied having ever been with another man, with _Louis_ … Louis felt the blood leave his fingers at the thought. It would hurt. 

Louis forced himself to push the thought away. Sure, his feelings about Harry were still… a _mess_ , but if Louis had known Harry at all, he knew that Harry would be honest. He would tell the truth. 

Harry, to his credit, looked unruffled by the question, and didn’t give Louis a single glance before answering, with “Yeah, I have. Don’t think gender’s that important, is it?” Harry took a quiet sip from his drink when he finished, grinning brazenly as if he hadn’t just dropped a major bomb on the other islanders. Emphasis on _other_ because _Louis_ had known, of course. But now that clearly wasn’t just his and Harry’s secret anymore.

There were several giggles from all around, and more hooting. 

Louis had to physically shake his head so that he could focus on the game again. There was no point watching, _monitoring_ Harry the way he was now. Clearly, Harry hadn’t panicked the way Louis had when the question had been asked. It didn’t bother him, and Louis needed to be the same. There was no point in stressing about Harry essentially outing himself, about how Harry may have been with someone else at some point, someone in New York maybe… 

No. Louis had to stop. Nothing would change, and Louis was self-aware enough at this point to realize how self-destructive it would be if he kept it up. Harry wasn’t looking at him, anyway, instead focusing his gaze on Julia, as if trying to see how she’d reacted to the new information. Louis tried not to grimace. 

The game went on, until finally, _finally_ Carla appeared and grabbed the cards from the middle of the table. Louis released an audible sigh of relief. The truth or dare hadn’t been too bad; most of the questions had been tame, if maybe a little cheeky. Louis had survived the day somewhat unscathed. 

But that was when he realized he had spoken too soon. Because what he hadn’t noticed was that Carla held another pile of cards in hand. And then, Julia's phone beeped. 

“Islanders,” she read, squinting at the text on her phone. “You’re not done yet! Today, you’ll finish the day off with _Never Have I Ever_ , so you can get to know the others even better. For every situation you have participated in, you will take a shot!” 

The majority of the islanders cheered; Louis’ heart sank. It wasn’t over yet, apparently. He glanced over at Zayn, who was still behind the table. Zayn met his eyes with a smirk, having actually looked up from his phone for once. Just to note Louis' suffering. _The bastard_. Louis almost wanted to laugh. 

So the game went on, and Louis drank more watered-down shots than he ever wanted to drink again in his life. There was something so _unsatisfying_ about having to taste the bitter flavour of alcohol, without the buzz that accompanied it. Louis would be filing a complaint to Carla as soon as this stupid game was over. 

“Never have I ever… participated in a threesome!” hollered Niall after he finished reading from his card. He watched in glee as a few of the others took a sip from their cups, waggling his eyebrows at Louis when he noticed Louis hadn’t reached for his own drink. 

And, well. Maybe things weren’t so bad. Louis slowly found that he was having a decent enough of a time, after all. Or maybe the buzz was simply — finally — starting to kick in. 

“Never have I ever… slept with someone while thinking about someone else,” Mike read out loud when it was his turn. Around him, the rest of the islanders were laughing and buzzed, gesturing at whoever had taken a swig from their cups. And Louis… this question had hit a bit too close to home for him. He took a very, very quick sip, because he could remember several times when he had been thinking about someone else during sex. Someone else who happened to be sitting right fucking across from him. 

Louis felt his heart beat a bit too quickly for a second, and found his gaze locked onto Harry’s as he watched him take a small sip from his glass. _Harry_ … Harry had slept with someone while thinking of another person? Louis barely had time to process this before Eleanor read the next scenario. 

“Never have I ever…” — she paused dramatically before grinning into her hand — “been in _love_.”

There was a pregnant pause around the firepit as everyone deliberated how to answer the question. A few of the islanders drank from their cups right away, but Louis waited. He waited for Harry’s reaction, because he had to _know_. Did Harry remember? Fuck, was it possible that he’d realized after they had broken up that he hadn’t loved Louis at all? Maybe he had fallen in love with someone else. Maybe it was one of the fashion models Harry had hung out with in New York. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

And as if in slow motion, he watched as Harry took a tiny, tiny sip. And Louis — Louis wanted to set himself on fire. Because was Harry thinking about someone else? Or did he remember the same way Louis did? Louis took a sip. He remembered everything. 

\---

_Louis’ heart skipped when he heard a knock on the door. He had deliberately asked Harry to come over a bit later in the evening, to make sure he had enough time to prepare everything properly. But Harry, of course, the overeager idiot that he was, had shown up early. Louis smiled to himself, wiping his hands on his trousers before he exited the kitchen._

_Today was a big day. Well, not really, he supposed. It wasn’t their anniversary or anything like that, but it was a big day because Louis had spent the day preparing to surprise Harry. With food._

_Now, Louis was a shit cook, everyone knew that. His mum knew it. His sisters knew it. Liam knew it. So, naturally, Harry knew about it, too._

_Chicken, stuffed with mozzarella, wrapped in parma ham with a side of homemade mash and gravy. Ambitious? Yup. But Louis was convinced it was a winner. It also helped that Harry’s expectations of Louis’ cooking skills were so low they were practically non-existent. That wanker._

_“Hellooo,” Harry sang when Louis finally opened the door. He gave Louis a happy kiss before inviting himself in and removing his shoes, stumbling only a little bit as he squeezed past the entrance of the doorway._

_Louis laughed, shaking his head fondly. It had only been a few months since he had started dating Harry, but it felt like he had known this boy forever. And to his astonishment, every single time Louis saw him he still felt his heart pump a bit faster, still found himself blown away by this person in front of him. Harry looked exactly the same as he did the day before — but for some reason Louis still felt as though he could never get enough._

_“Lou… what’s going on?” Harry asked, the moment he took a look at the dining table. His eyes widened as he looked around, registering the candles on the table and the smell emanating from the kitchen. Louis had taken the liberty of kicking out his flatmate, and making the place proper romantic. Louis could do romance, okay?_

_Louis shrugged, trying not to show how smug he felt. He gently placed his hand on Harry’s back, gesturing towards the table._

_“Well, wanted to do something a bit more special, Harold, since I know you’re such a sap,” Louis announced, feeling more excited every second._ Fuck _, this was going so well already, this evening was going to be perfect._

_Harry turned towards Louis, eyes wide and cheeks slightly pink._   
_  
“I love you,” Harry declared, a bit out of breath. Then, he froze._

_Louis stared at him, wondering for a moment if he was dreaming. Had he really just said —? He wasn’t dreaming. Harry was here, in his flat, lips bitten from the cold with a nervous look on his face. Harry, the person he had fallen for so quickly at a party, the person that would never stop defending the merits of rom-coms and cried when he saw cute videos of kittens. The person that he could never get enough of._

_“Lou —?” Harry started to ask hesitantly, before he was cut off. Louis wasn’t even thinking, all he knew was that suddenly he was kissing Harry, deep and slow, the feeling of pure bliss radiating through his veins, warm and syrupy, like his entire body was being filled with sunshine. Louis brought his head back, beaming. He didn’t think that he could stop himself from smiling even if he had wanted to. His cheeks were beginning to hurt already._

_“I love you too, obviously,” Louis said, feeling a bit winded. “Of course,”_

_And slowly, Harry started grinning, before he threw his head back and laughed._

_“Okay, well, good. Let’s eat, and, love you,” Harry replied cheerily, practically skipping to the dining table where a chair had been pulled out for him. Louis watched him, feeling warm. This was his favourite version of Harry. The one that was happiest when he was with him._

_And as they began eating, Louis was struck by how much he really did love Harry. Louis could never get enough of the low timbre of his voice, of the way he smiled with his entire face, bright and happy, the way his brows furrowed when he was concentrating. He_ loved _this person. And fuck, if it didn’t feel good._

_For the first time in his life, Louis felt like he would be forever happy, if he could keep this one person with him for all of it._

\---

Louis was brought back into the moment when Eleanor jostled him a bit to get his attention. “You alright?” she whispered to him, once he shook away the remainders of his memory with Harry.

Louis nodded slowly, suddenly feeling very exhausted. His head hurt. 

The game was finally wrapping up, with some of the cameramen starting to put away their equipment. 

“Harry! Over at the beach hut please!” called one of the producers, and Harry stood up, politely removing himself from Julia as he made his way towards the other side of the villa. 

Louis watched him, trying to digest the concoction of nostalgia and confusion. So much had changed, and as Louis watched his ex walk away, he couldn’t shake the feeling that back then, he had never thought this would happen. Never.


	6. Chapter 6

_“I lied about being handcuffed in bed. I just wanted them to get off my back.”_

_Niall, Week 2, solo interview_

\---

The next day began with a wake up call from Zayn, who was walking along the line of beds in the semi dark bedroom, trying to get all the islanders out of bed. Out of everyone the producers could have picked, Louis wasn’t sure why _Zayn_ had been chosen — he was anything but the forceful type. 

That was, until Louis was pelted in the face with a pillow. “C’mon now or you won’t be getting in the van,” Zayn said, much too cheerily for how Louis felt. He assumed that Zayn’s chipper attitude came as from the excitement of whacking him with a pillow. 

“Fuck you, Zayn,” Louis yelled, except he was sure that it sounded more like a croak. Sitting up groggily, he blinked at the unwelcome brightness. He didn’t quite have a hangover, but he had definitely passed out into a deep sleep as soon as his head had hit the pillow. 

Zayn glanced at him, hiding what Louis _knew_ was a smirk. “Well, Louis, you don’t want to be left behind now, do you? You’re welcome to stay in the villa by yourself.” 

The words prompted Louis to survey the room blearily, and sure enough, Louis was one of the only few left — the other half of the mattress where Eleanor slept was empty, and he could see that only a few other islanders were still getting out of bed. 

Louis had to admit that Zayn had a point. Today was Sunday, and the first _free_ Sunday, at that. Staying in the villa wouldn’t be a good idea, especially when it was one of the few chances that the islanders had to go into one of the neighboring cities close by. When the producers had first announced that they would have the day off, Louis had been incredibly surprised. And although it wasn’t going to be an entirely _free_ day, per se, since they had appointments at a hairdresser and had been instructed to pick up any other grooming essentials, Louis would have been lying if he said he hadn’t been looking forward to today. After weeks of being holed up in the villa with constant camera surveillance, it would be foolish for Louis to pass up this opportunity just for twenty more minutes of sleep. 

Ten minutes later, Louis was standing in the main area of the villa with a banana in hand — a quick breakfast was his only option today — as the producers ran around, making sure that everyone was accounted for, and giving out special instructions. Most of the islanders were milling about, waiting for the vans to pull up, some of them unwilling to separate into groups by gender as they’d been instructed.

Louis glanced over to his left, where Harry was engaged in a conversation with Charlotte. He seemed to be attentive to whatever she was describing animatedly.

Charlotte wasn’t Harry’s type, was she? Bubbly redheads? Louis thought back to the previous girls Harry had dated. Then again, redheads weren’t all too common. Maybe redheads were Harry’s type and Louis hadn’t known.

Louis wondered what Harry thought of the show so far. Whether he was having a good time. Whether anyone had actually caught his eye. He didn’t realize he was staring until Charlotte laughed at something Harry had said, and Louis quickly looked away. 

Niall was off in one corner, receiving what looked like a very specific talking-to from Carla — Louis guessed it had to do with Liz and Nora, who were, even now, vying for his attention. From what he could hear, the producers had instructed the two girls to stay well apart until they returned to the villa, so that any potential drama or conversations could happen on-screen. 

And although Niall was nodding, Louis could see the slightly bewildered face on his end. It was clear that Niall definitely wasn’t used to this amount of drama. Louis chuckled a bit. Poor lad. 

“I’m taking shotgun,” Niall called as they climbed into the van, having finished his conversation with Carla. “I don’t want to share space with any of you sweaty tossers.”

“You sweat the most,” Mike rebutted. “You’re doing us a favour by staying away.”

A moment later, Zayn climbed into the van, finally having managed to get everyone sorted. From Louis’ understanding, Zayn was joining their outing as some sort of designated supervisor — he would be in charge of keeping the boys on schedule and from discussing anything that was even remotely relevant to _Love Island_ drama. 

Louis couldn’t resist joking about Zayn’s various roles around the villa, which included, among other things, being a professional voyeur (when he was filming) and a hot male nanny (when he was not). But Louis found that it was nice to have Zayn along. Between him and Niall, he felt like he was managing to make some good friends, which was a helpful distraction when one happened to be on a remote island in the middle of Spain, stuck with your ex and having nowhere else to go. 

It didn’t occur to Louis that he would have to sit in a car with Harry until the others had begun to pile into the van. He hung back purposefully, waiting for Jasper to take the middle seat next to Harry before he crawled in himself. 

He wondered if it was too obvious, and if Harry, a person who had once known his every thought, would notice. Wondered if Harry would be offended that Louis couldn’t bear to sit next to him for the next thirty minutes. 

Well, maybe that was overstating it. If anything, it was more like Louis didn’t know if he’d be able to breathe sitting next to Harry — it would have been the closest they’d been in two years. 

Excited conversation began as soon as the car took off, with everyone discussing what they’d do with their day off. Louis sat contently in the midst of all the chatter, staring past Niall’s head as the winding road opened to a wide stretch of open land. 

“Are you gonna tell us exactly where we’re going?” Niall pestered the driver good naturedly. The driver glanced quickly at Niall before saying absolutely nothing. 

Niall laughed. “You’re not, are ya.”

“Don’t be so hard on him Niall,” Louis said, trying to push down his thoughts with lighthearted conversation. “You’re already stinking up the front seat.” 

Without looking back, Niall flipped him the finger. 

Harry, Louis noticed, wasn’t saying too much. Instead, he faced the window from the row in front of Louis, staring at the landscape that passed by, rolling hills dotted with whitewashed villas. Harry did always like observing the scenery, had liked admiring the nature and beauty of landscapes, and Majorca was beautiful, there was no denying that. 

Louis wondered what Harry was thinking of right now; whether he was admiring the gorgeous countryside, or, like Louis, thinking about the fact that he was sharing a car with his ex.

The drive was short. Soon the driver was pulling the car over in a quaint town. The winding streets were scattered with coffee shops and other businesses. Louis hopped out with the other boys, basking in the freedom of finally being in a new space. Bonus points because he wasn’t being filmed. Although Louis himself tended to feel more comfortable in large cities, he found the quiet of the town charming, and very, very liberating. 

He hadn’t realized how much he had been itching to step out into the real world until he saw the salon, or how much he’d missed seeing regular people until they were greeted by their hairdressers. 

“Nothing too dramatic for me,” Niall chirped as he sat down in the salon chair. “Except I _was_ blond when I was seventeen. Should I revive the look?”

Everyone turned to stare at Niall, with the hairdressers looking particularly appalled. The response was a resounding no. 

Although haircuts were a pretty standard appointment, they were exciting enough for a group of boys who had been cooped up in the monotony of the villa for the past two weeks. And after an inch of hair had been trimmed from each of their heads, they were granted permission to take a leisurely walk outside. 

It was nice enjoying some freedom after so long in seclusion. Louis was grateful to walk the paved roads and to see aged cobblestones, to find a small square of real grass instead of the same artificial lawns he had been seeing every single day. It gave him time to breathe, to think about everything without having to be constantly surrounded by the same set of people. 

He stretched out on the grass, mind wandering through the events that had happened over the past few days. In a weird way, he was getting used to seeing Harry, more accustomed to his presence. It wasn’t like they were talking; he still didn’t know what to make of everything, having Harry so close, all the time. It wasn’t like they were talking, but he still didn’t know what to make of everything, having Harry so close, all the time.

For the first time in what felt like years, Louis let himself just get lost. He was absorbed in his surroundings, so much so that it took him several minutes to notice the soft sound of footsteps trailing behind him as he headed back to the van. Louis didn’t need to turn around to know who it was, even as he climbed into the back of the vehicle. 

Just as he expected, Harry had followed suit, settling into the row in front of him. 

“You’re following me,” Louis said by way of greeting, before suddenly feeling self-conscious about the way he had just spoken. Had that been too blunt? If Harry knew anything, it was that Louis was often too blunt. _God,_ Louis thought. _His rude ex._ _He must think that I’m such an arsehole._

However, Harry seemed untroubled. “Sorry,” he said instead. There was probably a bit of truth in that apology, but Louis knew that if he had really been sorry, he wouldn’t have followed Louis in the first place. 

A moment of silence passed in which Harry didn’t continue, staring at his hands instead. Why had he followed Louis if he wasn’t saying anything? Did he even have anything to say? 

But even if he did, Louis didn’t know where he’d begin. 

“How are you?” Louis asked, trying desperate to break the sudden tension that had filled the air. The other islanders had yet to join them, and for the moment it was just him and Harry, sitting in a warm van in the middle of Spain with no invasive microphones. 

“I’m okay,” Harry replied. Louis was surprised by his answer, surprised that he hadn’t just said _good._ The honesty was an opening. With just those two words, Harry was allowing himself to be vulnerable. Or, at least more so than Louis would have expected. 

“How about you?” Harry murmured, turning his head to look at Louis. Their eyes met, and Louis felt his breath catch. 

It was the closest they’d been to having a real conversation in years. The closest interaction. Despite how many reunions he’d imagined with Harry, he still wasn’t prepared for the clench in his throat. He looked down. 

Harry was allowing himself to open up for a reason. Maybe Louis could do the same. 

“I’m okay too,” Louis said, willing his heart to calm down. The humid air was suddenly stifling, and Louis wished that the driver would come back so that he could turn on the A/C, provide a distraction for him, or _anything,_ anything that would make this moment feel less loaded than it was. 

“Why are you here?” Harry asked abruptly, and Louis jerked his head to look back at him. It was as though Harry had had this pent up question in him for a long time, and had been waiting to ask him. His rushed words made it hard to tell whether Harry was angry or just curious. 

_I could ask you the same,_ Louis almost said. He bit his tongue instead and went for the more civil approach. 

“I had a free summer,” Louis shrugged, letting out a slight chuckle to lighten the tension. Noting Harry’s apprehensive stare, Louis knew this answer hadn’t satisfied him. 

“Liam convinced me to come on after we got pissed and sent in an application,” he continued, suddenly feeling exposed. He rubbed his neck. “It didn’t seem that bad.”

Harry raised an amused eyebrow. “That was all it took?” His voice was somewhat incredulous. Louis didn’t blame him. The Louis of four years ago would rather have jumped off a cliff than applied for _Love Island_.

Louis shrugged again. Did he want to reveal to Harry that he hadn’t had much else going on for him? That work had been his entire life for the past few years, and that if he weren’t here, he would probably be rotting away in front of the telly all summer?

Louis didn’t doubt that Harry would feel pity for him. And pity wasn’t something he wanted right now. Especially not from Harry.

“I’m going to law school in September. Could use the money to support myself, and the family,” Louis said, watching carefully as Harry’s expression turned into one of surprise at the news. 

Louis’ heart lurched painfully. _God_. The last time he had spoken to Harry about this was when they were still fighting, still trying to figure what they both wanted to do with their lives and what their prospective plans were. Louis had been so much younger then, so much more immature, not able to cope with discussing future plans that hadn’t been concrete. Especially when the person he had been discussing them with was halfway across the world. 

“That’s amazing, Louis,” Harry said, sincerity in his tone. “Congratulations.” There was nothing in his voice that was disingenuous, and for some reason, that made Louis feel even more uneasy. 

“Thanks,” Louis replied, not sure what else to say. It felt strange, talking about a big life development to someone who had always been the first to hear the news. He had been there through all of Louis’ undergraduate degree, he had seen the ups and the downs. And now, here Harry was, only hearing about the end result years later. 

Louis tried to shake the thought from his head. Time to seize the opportunity while they were on the topic. “So, why are _you_ here?” 

“I got scouted,” Harry said, without the hesitation that Louis had shown in his own response. “One of the producers saw my name in the paper and offered me a spot on the show. Said it would be good business for me.”

“Business?” Louis said, trying to say the word casually. 

“A bakery,” Harry supplied. “I opened a bakery in London a while ago.”

Harry was running a business now. And in _London_. Harry had been in the same city as Louis, for who knew how long, and Louis had never known. It was entirely possible that his friends had seen Harry around. It was possible that Louis had even visited Harry’s bakery. And while all of this information was overwhelming, the fact that Louis had had no idea at all about Harry’s life sent a kind of strange pang through him. Harry was managing a whole company now, had people working under him, was now a regular part of people’s morning routine, probably. 

And it was not just any business, either. A bakery. He recalled the conversation that Harry had had near the pool — this was something that Lainey (and probably most of the other islanders) had known about before Louis. Even all of the UK, since it would have been on his intro to the show. Even _Liam_ must have known. And Louis hadn’t.

But a _bakery._ Harry had known that law school had always been a part of Louis’ plan, but a bakery was never a part of his. At least to Louis’ knowledge. Harry had had his sights on being a chef, hoping to open his own restaurant someday. What had happened between culinary school and where Harry was now? 

This conversation was more honest, more open than Louis had expected. And what was Louis expecting? Hostility, maybe. Maybe unwillingness. But for whatever reason, Harry wanted to talk. Harry had followed him.

Harry looked like he was about to say more, but just then, Niall entered the car, followed by all the other men. Louis stayed seated, watching as Zayn took one last look on his clipboard before closing the van door. 

Louis cursed inwardly. He didn’t feel like he’d gotten any of the answers he wanted. Like if Harry was really on here to date, if he was ready to find someone new. Louis didn’t know at all. 

“Looking sharp, lads,” Niall chirped, ruffling Harry’s hair. “Harry, your hair is as soft as it looks.”

“So I’ve been told,” Harry said, his smile brighter than it was a moment ago. _You were always good at doing that,_ Louis thought. 

Harry glanced his way one more time as the car started, and Louis pretended not to notice.

\---

Louis couldn’t stop thinking about their conversation on the way home. One sneaky glance informed Louis that Harry’s mind was definitely occupied as well. 

When they were finally back in the villa, there was a brief commotion as the producers tried to get everyone set up for filming once again. The girls tittered excitedly as they greeted the boys, subtly showing off their new hairstyles and manicures. 

Eleanor caught Louis’ eye as he stepped out of the van. Louis wished he could say that she looked different after being in the town for a bit, but the truth was, he couldn’t tell at all. Would he have to pretend that he was ecstatic about her manicure, too? Being straight was hard. 

Unlike the rest of the girls, though, it seemed as if makeovers were the last thing on Eleanor’s mind. She looked a little wary, and nodded her head over towards the side of the entrance, suggesting that they talk in a more private space. This would be interesting. 

Catching her drift, Louis stealthily walked away from the rest of the group, keeping eyes on Carla to make sure she didn’t notice him sneaking away with Eleanor. She’d probably get the wrong idea, and think that him and Eleanor were doing… _things_. Louis snorted at the thought. How wrong she would be.

Eleanor joined him a minute later, but he couldn’t read her expression. 

“Could we have a chat?” Eleanor asked, her voice pitched a bit lower than normal. 

“You know you’re supposed to ask that when the cameras are on, right?” Louis joked cheekily. She smiled a bit in response, but he could still sense some tension in the way she kept avoiding his gaze. It was odd to see her like this, especially when Louis had come to associate her with being quite brazen and bold.

“Is something wrong?” 

“No, I just thought we should have a talk before we head back in and get filmed all day,” she said. There was a pause before she continued, almost sounding uneasy. “Why are you on the show again?” 

Straight to the point, then. 

Louis paused for a minute, churning through the different responses in his brain. After two weeks of being around Eleanor, he had the feeling that she wasn’t the kind of person who would tolerate bullshit. It was something he admired about her, and a quality that he was glad his TV partner possessed. But this didn’t necessarily mean that he could give her a full version of events. 

“Mostly to have fun, I guess,” he answered as honestly as he could. “Aren’t you?” he asked, trying to direct the answer back to make it less suspicious. “I mean, I don’t think I’ll find the love of my life, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

Eleanor bit her bottom lip, and if she noticed Louis’ distraction tactic, she didn’t show it. “Well, I’m not even here for fun. I mean I am, and it’s nice, but I told you that I’m a model, yeah?” 

Eleanor had mentioned that in one of their first conversations. Louis nodded in response, gaining a sense of where this was going. 

“I’m sure you know _Love Island_ is great for publicity — I mean maybe not for you, being a lawyer, but for anyone in the public eye, obviously, this is such a great opportunity. Does… does that make sense?” Eleanor watched him warily, assessing his response. 

She was still hesitant, even though she hadn’t really revealed anything that should cause those nerves, in Louis’ opinion. He nodded again. “I’m not here for much more than to try something new. If you’re trying to say you’re not here for romance, or if you’re trying to let me down gently, it’s all good,” he smiled, doing his best to be comforting. What was he supposed to say? “I’ll admit I picked you because you seemed less the romantic type than Nora. Less drama.” 

Eleanor chuckled a bit, easing the tension between them. Louis could hear Carla getting everyone into order behind him, but he waited patiently, because surely Eleanor was going to say more? Her eyes were darting behind him as well, so he stepped closer. “Was there anything else you wanted to say?” he urged. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” 

“I have a boyfriend,” Eleanor blurted out. 

There was a silence. Eleanor was staring at Louis, eyes wide and hesitant. And, well. Louis couldn’t help himself, he laughed. 

Things had just gotten much easier. 

He knew it was against the rules, which is why this is such a big deal — Carla had made it extremely clear while he’d signed ten different nondisclosure and legal agreements, plus there had been reminders before each round of interviews: to be a contestant on _Love Island,_ you had to have been single for at least six months prior. 

Eleanor continued to watch him closely, concern written on her face. 

“Listen, that works out perfectly, because I happen to be gay,” Louis said, snorting.

Eleanor widened her eyes. “What? Then why are you here?”

“For the same reason everyone else is, to have a good time,” Louis said. “So what do you want out of this? A partnership, yeah?” 

Eleanor sighed in relief, her features smoothing over. “Yeah, I had wanted to apply, and my boyfriend encouraged me to. So I want to stay on the show.”

Nodding, Louis pursed his lips in thought. “How about this? We both just have to be chill and stay coupled up with each other, and hope that no one votes us out.”

Eleanor pondered a bit. “It’s not going to be that easy, Louis,” she said. “To want people to like us we have to be cool, or we’re going to be boring and they’re going to vote us right off.”

“I’m plenty cool,” Louis argued, and Eleanor rolled her eyes.

“Cool as in, we need the viewers to like us. Other than that, we can hang out in the villa and not cause any drama. But. We still need to flirt.”

Well. Fake flirting was still better than real flirting. Given what Louis had anticipated at first, this was still the best-case scenario.

“Flirting I can do,” Louis said. “I can be very good at flirting. Excellent flirter yes, that’s me.” 

“You’ve been shit at flirting this whole time,” Eleanor countered.

“That’s because I’m gay and didn’t want to give you false hope,” Louis protested.

“Honey, people need to _love_ us if we want to stay,” Eleanor said. “And if you think anyone would like your shitty flirting, you are mistaken.” 

Even though Louis knew it wasn’t true, he pretended to be insulted. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and winked. “How’s this for flirting?”

“Gross,” Eleanor said, but she was laughing. 

Behind them, Carla’s demands for everyone to get inside the villa were becoming more insistent. 

“Listen,” Louis said, leaning into Eleanor one last time and lowering his voice. “We can do this, it’ll be fine. We just need to keep bantering like we have been, yeah? And everyone will like us.” 

Eleanor pursed her lips and nodded. “Okay, I think we can make this work.”

“Louis! Eleanor! Get over here, no talking!” Carla’s voice was nearing them. Louis turned around, and could see Carla shooting him her _I-am-so-going-to-murder-you-when-you’re-out-of-here_ gaze. Huh. Louis hadn’t seen that since the first day of filming. He had kind of missed it, to be honest.

“Good talk, darling,” Louis said, blowing Eleanor a fake kiss and a wink. He turned away, hearing Eleanor’s laugh, only to catch Harry, who had happened to be watching him intently. Flustered, Harry quickly looked away. 

It was weird to have someone here who Louis used to tell everything to. If this were a few years ago, Louis would have pulled Harry aside to fill him in on everything, to share the relief he was feeling right now. 

But the only things they’d discussed with each other in the past few days were superficial topics, and one clipped conversation. And even that didn’t last long. 

Louis wondered what Harry had wanted to ask him earlier. Given the fact that they were about to be ambushed by cameras once again, he probably wasn’t going to find out any time soon. 

It wasn’t until a few hours later that it occurred to him: would Eleanor notice anything going on between him and Harry, now that she knew his secret? 

\---

With the start of a new week, Louis wasn’t surprised that things began to pick up the next day. 

“We’re doing a Twitter challenge!” Nora yelled, showing off her text. 

Twitter? How was Nora going to get access to Twitter? “I thought we weren’t allowed access to the internet?” Louis voiced aloud. 

“You’re making it obvious that you haven’t watched the show,” Eleanor hissed at him, as if there weren’t microphones everywhere. Oh well. They wouldn’t air footage of a contestant admitting such a thing. He could blame Liam for skipping over this in his _Love Island_ 101 lesson. 

As it turned out, a Twitter challenge was just a game of filling in blanked out tweets. Tweets about them, in particular. Louis braced for the worst. 

“‘ _Blank_ and _blank_ fight like my cats at home,’” announced Eleanor, holding up a large card with the blown-up version of the tweet. “I wonder who that could be.”

“Jasper and Charlotte, obviously!” Mike yelled, over their protests. “We could hear them from a mile away,” he added, to ensuing laughter and a scowl from Charlotte. When Eleanor revealed he was correct, he did a fist pump. 

Picking another one, Eleanor read it out loud. “‘Is it just me or is there lots of tension between _blank_ and _blank_?’”

“They’re really trying to stir things up here,” Louis whispered to Niall. Among the contestants, there was some nervous tittering. There was tension between the islanders? The answer would determine some drama, that was for sure. 

“Nora and Liz!” Charlotte yelled unabashedly, probably still bitter about the last tweet. Beside him, Niall stiffened, eyes widening. Louis tried to hold back in a laugh.

“Caroline Flack and Carla,” someone hollered, earning a few snickers. Off camera, Carla turned around, somehow looking both amused and alarmed. Eleanor rolled her eyes, peeling off a strip of paper to reveal the first name.

“Harry,” she declared, and Louis’ head lifted in surprise. There were murmurs amongst the other islanders too. Harry had been so easy to talk to in the villa, who could _he_ possibly have tension with? Louis couldn’t help but feel a little bit of discomfort at the prospect of Harry having drama with anyone else in the villa without Louis noticing. Who was it? Who was the girl Harry had been flirting with?

“Harry and who?” Julia chirped excitedly. _No doubt she’s hoping that it would be her._

“Harry and…” Eleanor wiggled her eyebrows in suspense, ripping off the next piece of paper to reveal the name. 

_What the fuck._

Louis stared at where his name was on the board. 

“Louis?” Nora said, confused. “That’s random.”

 _Fuck,_ Louis thought, his brain buzzing with panic. He forced himself not to look at Harry, who, from Louis’ peripheral vision, was standing as still as he was, completely frozen. God, this was awkward.

“I mean, maybe it’s because you guys just haven’t really talked?” Liz said, trying to be logical about the tweet. Directly across from him, he could see Ethan and Mike exchanging a look. So perhaps others had noticed, even if Liz and Nora hadn’t.

“Yeah, you guys probably just need to talk more,” Eleanor said, ready to move onto the next tweet. 

Plastering a smile on his face, Louis tried to not let his thoughts show. _People are noticing our tension through the screen? Why would they think that?_ To be fair, Louis knew that his situation with Harry wasn’t exactly pleasant, to say the least. He was sure that the producers and of course, the other islanders, had picked up on some of the discomfort between them. 

But Louis hadn’t realized that the tension was palpable enough that even the UK viewers were able to pinpoint it from their own television screens. 

And maybe that said something. 

\---

Louis was called into the beach hut that evening by Zayn. 

“The producers just want to ask you something,” Zayn said. “It’s not a big issue,” he added, upon seeing Louis’ grimace. 

Louis wondered if “not a big issue” was code for “a big issue”. But then again, he hadn’t done anything too incriminating lately, right? Aside from stuffing toilet paper down Niall’s pants — a prank all in good fun. He didn’t think that would get him in trouble, but then again — Carla _did_ remind him a bit of his primary school teacher, especially when she got annoyed. 

Stepping into the hut, Louis noticed that Carla was present, along with a couple other producers. 

“Hi,” Louis said, closing the door behind him. “What’s this about?”

“Not to worry, it’s not a big issue,” Carla said, repeating what Zayn said. Louis was beginning to think this was a bigger problem than they were letting on. “We just wanted to know if you and Harry are having trouble with one another?”

Fuck. When Louis signed up to be on _Love Island_ , he had never anticipated that the producers would call him in to have a heart to heart chat about his ex-boyfriend. 

Then again, he had also never imagined seeing his ex-boyfriend on the show in the first place.

“We don’t have any trouble, no,” Louis said, setting himself down on a chair. He hoped his nerves weren’t showing. Truth be told, this conversation was making him feel very, very weary. 

“A lot of tweets are coming through about the tension between you two,” Carla said, tilting her head. “We’re not sure why they think that.”

A feeling of slight relief washed over Louis. So the producers hadn’t noticed anything in person, they had just been analyzing tweets.

“I don’t know,” Louis said, draping an arm over the chair. _Casual body language, Louis._ “Maybe we just haven’t gotten to know each other well enough? I haven’t talked to him loads yet.” 

“A lot of people are saying that you look at each other a lot,” Carla stated. “Are you sure there’s nothing between you two?”

 _We do?_ Louis thought in a panic. _Fuck._ If anything, he’d have thought that they’d been avoiding looking at each other. And also, _what_? Were they implying that they knew about him and Harry?

“I don’t know,” Louis said again, shrugging. “I’m not looking at anywhere in particular, maybe it’s the cameras and the editing that made it look weird?”

“Maybe,” Carla said, pursing her lips in thought. She stared at him in the way he was starting to become very familiar with. It was very Carla-like. 

“Look, I don’t have anything against him,” Louis added desperately. “He seems like a really great guy, really nice to me so far.”

Louis hoped that the people back home hadn’t sleuthed enough to find out that him and Harry had dated. He hoped Liam had stayed true to his word.

“Okay, well, that’s it,” Carla said. “Thanks for the input.”

Nodding, Louis headed toward the door. “Are you going to ask Harry the same thing?” he added nonchalantly.

“No need,” Carla said, waving a hand in dismissal.

As Louis left, he caught Zayn looking at him perceptively, no doubt thinking about the frantic phone call the night Harry arrived. Louis quickly looked away and left.

\---

Harry got called into the beach hut an hour later. Carla, that liar. Louis felt a bit like laughing though — he supposed it had been a little bit naive to really think they wouldn’t ask Harry the same questions. 

It took everything in Louis’ willpower to not look at the beach hut, anxiously wondering what they were asking Harry. And what he was saying back. 

“You okay?” Eleanor mouthed from across where she was sitting. Louis was glad she hadn’t whispered, as the mics would have picked it up. 

Louis gave her a nod and hoped it looked convincing enough. Did he really look that tense? He tried to loosen up. 

Eventually, Harry stepped out of the hut, his face giving no sign of what had just been discussed. Damn it. 

He did glance over at Louis, though. It made Louis contemplate whether he should ask Harry, before he remembered that he was on a televised show, and all of his moves were recorded for the world to see. 

Better not, then. 

\---

_“So someone’s coming home today,” Louis’ mum chided. Louis tried to grin as he reached around her for an apple, before facing away from her. He knew that if she got a longer glimpse, she would clearly see that his smile wasn’t entirely genuine._

_The nerves didn’t subside as he headed out of the Heathrow parking lot, locking his car. Okay. Time to find the terminal for American Airlines._

_It took Louis a second to realize that the tall, fedora-wearing boy at Terminal Two was Harry._ When had Harry started wearing fedoras?

_At the sight of Louis, Harry’s eyes lit up. Momentarily, Louis forgot everything he had been worried about, heart pounding as he rushed forward to fall into Harry’s easy embrace._

_Harry pulled back. “Hi,” he said, eyes sparkling._

_“Hi,” Louis replied, grin threatening to break his entire face._

_As they left the terminal, hand in hand, Louis almost forgot why he had been so anxious in the first place._

_When they pulled out of the parking lot, Louis noted with delight how Harry automatically reached for his hand. Just like how they used to do when Louis was always driving._

_“So why are you wearing a fedora?” Louis asked._

_Harry chuckled. “Nick bought it for me in Brooklyn.” He smiled to himself, clearly recalling the memory. “It was two in the morning, and we were plastered, but Riley thought it would be hilarious if we went to this shop at the corner…”_

_Although Louis tried his best to listen, he couldn’t stop the ache clawing at him, just like it had been doing every time Harry brought up his new friends. The friends that were slowly, but surely, replacing him._

_As Harry launched into another story about how Leah had made him lick the bottom of someone’s shoe, Louis stopped pretending that he was listening. It was easier to shut it out._

\---

_Louis had been waiting for Harry since six o’clock. The movie was about to start in fifteen minutes, and at this rate, Louis didn’t even know if they were going to get in._

_Finally, Harry showed up, breathless. “Sorry,” he said, ducking down to give Louis a kiss. “I was on a call with Tanya. Lost track of time.”_

_“You lost track of time?” Louis said, staring at Harry incredulously. The hurt was beginning to seep into Louis’ chest, threatening to drown him out like an ink blot._

_Harry shook his head regretfully, misreading Louis’ irritation as a result from his tardy behaviour. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. Hey, are you still coming over tomorrow?” Harry asked, oblivious. “We can make cookies.”_

_It wasn’t the fact that Harry had arrived late. It was the fact that Harry was forty minutes late because he had been calling his friend from New York, when he sometimes couldn’t even spare Louis ten minutes during the semester._

_Which was why Louis swallowed the pain and said, “No, I can’t. I promised my mum I’d run errands with her.”_

_It was a lie. His mum had already run to the shops today._

_But somehow, lying to Harry felt easier than having to be with him when he wasn’t even there._

\---

_“Another bowl?” Stan suggested, reaching for the pipe. Louis took a look at the clock. Today was Harry’s last day before he flew back to New York, and Louis was scheduled to meet Harry in twenty minutes before taking him to the airport._

_But Harry was supposed to be Skyping Nick today, and Louis had no doubt that Harry was going to end his call late. And anyway, even if Harry_ was _on time, maybe he’d realise what it felt like to be left waiting._

_He shrugged. “Sure,” he agreed, leaning back on the couch._

_It was an hour and a half later when Louis rang Harry’s doorbell. Harry opened the door, a frown on his face._

_“Hey,” Louis said._

_“I thought you were going to be here at two,” Harry said. It wasn’t until now that Louis noticed that Harry was dressed nicely in a crisp button up shirt._

_“Sorry,” Louis said. “I was at Stan’s.”_

_Harry rubbed his neck, an uncertain gesture. A pause passed before Harry said, “I thought we could go for a nice picnic or something before I left.”_

_“Oh,” Louis said, blinking. “I didn’t know.”_

_Harry gave a choppy laugh before saying, “Well, I guess I should have told you. It’s okay, though.” Before Louis could say anything more, Harry gestured to his luggage by the door. “We should probably get going.”_

_Harry stayed silent during the whole drive to Heathrow. Even with their hands clasped, it felt as if they were far apart._

_They finally arrived at Heathrow. Harry tugged his luggage out of the trunk as Louis stood beside him, hands by his sides. Turning around, Harry clutched his luggage. “Bye,” Harry said._

_“Bye,” Louis said. They looked at each other for one moment before Harry’s gaze fell to the ground._

_“Are we alright?” he asked, before bringing his head back up to look at Louis. Harry’s eyes were cautious, hesitant._

_Louis didn’t mean to allow one second to pass before answering. But he did._

_“Yeah,” he replied, watching as Harry’s mouth twitched sadly._

_“Okay,” Harry said, fiddling with his luggage tag. “I love you,” he said._

_“I love you,” Louis replied as Harry bent down to kiss him. Then he watched Harry walk away._


	7. Chapter 7

_“Honestly, I pour milk in the bowl first. It just makes sense.”_

_Julia, Week 3, solo interview_

\---

“I miss my dog,” Niall declared. The day had just started, and they were all sunk deep into their beanbag chairs like every morning. 

“Tell us about your dog, Niall,” Louis said, even though he didn’t really care. Being on the island had slowly made him start investing in even the most boring stories. No offense to Niall’s dog, of course. But the Louis from outside the island wouldn’t have even let Niall start rambling on about something so mundane without at least a little bullying.

“He’s a Labradoodle,” Niall stated, as if this information was very important. “Real cute. Name is Orson.”

Louis wrinkled his nose. “Mate, that’s the worst name for a dog.” 

“Me mum named him,” Niall said. “You’re insulting me mum.”

“Yeah, because that’s a shit name,” Louis said. _Sorry, Niall’s mum._

It had been an uneventful morning so far, with their banal conversations as evidence. Harry, Louis had noticed, was uncharacteristically quiet. Though he had been doing that more, lately he was keeping to himself in a corner with a couple other islanders, but from what Louis could tell, he wasn’t contributing a lot to conversation. 

Even with a pair of sunglasses covering his eyes, Louis could tell that Harry wasn’t involved in whatever Nora and Mike were saying to him. Instead, he was deep in thought, head turned towards something in the distance. 

Was it something to do with last night, when he had been dragged into the hut? Louis wished he knew. 

The rest of the morning passed on while the remainder of the islanders woke up and trotted outside. It wasn’t until 10 AM that Louis felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He was in a corner lounging next to Eleanor, who was catching him up on all the island gossip. If they excelled at something, this was it.

“I’ve got a text,” Louis declared, his voice echoing across the villa and disturbing the peace and quiet. All heads turned towards him in anticipation. Harry strolled over along with everyone else, but Louis could see the set of his shoulders, the way he almost looked… _reluctant_ to approach Louis? Louis unlocked his phone, scanned the text before reading it aloud and… _what_?

He was… stunned. Just shocked. What were they playing at?

Eleanor was reading over his shoulder, and he felt her tense up beside him once she read the message, then eye him to gauge his reaction. Everyone else waited expectantly. Louis cleared his throat.

“‘Nothing like spending time together to ease some tension. Harry and Louis,’” Louis said, hoping that no one had noticed the slight hesitation that coloured his voice, “‘how about a boys trip? #tensiondissolved #brosbeforehoes’”

Liz snorted. 

“What the hell,” Niall shouted obnoxiously. “I want a boys trip.”

A boys trip. Louis swallowed. With just him and Harry. No one else. _Fuck_. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted Carla. _Not a big issue_ , his arse. 

No doubt, Louis’ performance was convincing enough to assure the producers that their tension was a result of not knowing each other well enough. Louis should have really toned it down. Or adopted another script. 

Glancing over at Harry, Louis noticed that he was pasting a smile on his face, unnoticeably tight to most people around him. But Louis knew better. 

If it was Louis’ Oscar-worthy performance that got them into this mess, he might as well go all out. 

“Boys trip, huh, Harry?” Louis said, injecting as much gusto into his voice. “What do you think they’ll make us do?”

This was probably the first time Louis had said something so casually to Harry throughout the whole show, but if Harry was shocked, he did a good job of not revealing it. Just as quickly, Harry’s facial expression shifted into one of believable enthusiasm. “I hope they don’t make us fish,” Harry responded back, the cheeriness in his voice passing as completely authentic to anyone that wasn’t Louis. “I suck at it. I’d be a disaster.” 

As the contestants laughed, Louis tried to plaster a smile on his face too. Disaster. The other islanders couldn’t possibly know, but it sounded exactly like what was about to happen. 

As they pulled out of the driveway thirty minutes later, everyone bade them farewell. Then, it was just Louis and Harry in the car, with the camera crew and all their gear in a separate vehicle that followed them. 

No cameras. This was perfect, though there was still the driver. 

Seizing the opportunity before it could vanish, Louis pulled out his phone, fumbling to its limited texting application, which only allowed him to text other islanders or the producers. Harry seemed oblivious to Louis’ actions, and was instead staring out the window on his side — respectfully or deliberately ignoring him, Louis still didn’t know. He typed out a message in the text box, without sending it.

_What did the producers ask you yesterday?_

Louis held out the phone to Harry, who seemed slightly startled at this interaction. As Harry took the phone, Louis couldn’t help but notice that this was the closest they’d been in years. Any closer, and their hands would touch. 

He was surprised at how his fingers felt the need to brush against Harry’s, the way he had done before, so casually and so often. There had been a time when Louis had held those hands all the time, had become familiar with them, the scars, the calluses, the rings. Louis turned his head away and tried not to think about it. 

After a few seconds of typing, Harry handed the phone back. Louis’ message had been replaced by a new one.

_They asked why we would have any tension. I said I don’t know._

Louis scrunched his eyebrows. _That’s all you said?_

In response, Harry shrugged. _Yes?_ he mouthed, and took the phone back. _What else was I supposed to say?_

Cursing their limited form of communication, Louis decided to get straight to the point. _Told them we probably didn’t know each other enough. Might be why we’re on this trip._

As Harry read the text, an expression of mirth appeared on his face. Then he handed the phone back. 

_You would._

Upon reading the message, Louis felt a flush coming onto his cheeks. 

Before Louis could give into the instinct to type back _what is that supposed to mean?!?!?!?!_ he pocketed his phone. 

It was entirely possible that Harry’s message was one of resentful deprecation. But he had been smiling. The sudden realization hit Louis, and he felt his breath catch. 

If Harry _was_ angry or upset with Louis, it certainly didn’t seem as if he was going to let it hinder his interactions with him. He wouldn’t be bantering with Louis, wouldn’t make him tea. And… that. That smile. That smile seemed like it was intentional. And Louis was surprised to realize that seeing Harry smile made him feel a little bit lighter, like maybe this whole experience wasn’t going to be as terrible as Louis made it out to be. 

For the first time in days, Louis felt something loosen in his chest. Looking out the window, he took a breath. 

Perhaps a day trip would turn out alright. They had escaped the villa, after all. 

\---

So apparently Harry had spoken their fate into being, because soon, they found themselves standing on an empty pier in the sun. Of course they were going fucking _fishing_.

“You did this,” Louis accused, staring at a speedboat in front of them. There were two fishing poles perched neatly on its deck.

“It was unintentional,” Harry said, climbing into the speedboat like he had accepted his destiny. Harry turned from the water to look at Louis, face expectant and a little bit amused. He placed his fishing rod on his lap, and looked far too pleased with himself for something that _he_ had said he wouldn’t have wanted to do. 

They had been instructed to fish and to bring back food for the villa — as if they were on _Survivor_ and not _Love Island_. Fishing was an extremely macho thing for men to do, apparently. Maybe Louis and Harry were expected to bond over this masculine sport, even though both of them were far from competent in that area. 

After a crash course on fishing, during which the instructor used far too many terms that Louis had never heard of, in a strong Scottish accent, Louis found himself frustratedly throwing his line back into the water again and again. Fishing was not his thing at all. Were there even any fish to catch here? What if this was a fake fishing trip? Or something. 

Louis was thankful to find that Harry was in the same boat. Metaphorically. 

To his left, Harry was aggressively wrestling with his pole, like it was more of a boxing match and less of an idle activity. 

Fishing was supposed to be peaceful and relaxing, with lots of opportunity to talk. Except they weren’t really talking. What were they supposed to talk about? 

Louis looked over at the camera crew, where two videographers were a few yards away on a separate boat. Carla was there as well. All three were clearly enjoying Harry and Louis’ struggle, judging by the grins on their faces. Dave, who had always seemed to be around any time Louis tripped on the island, leaned out from behind his camera and gave a big thumbs up. Wanker. 

As Harry jostled his pole once more, Louis raised his brows, wondering if he should step in and intervene or if he should continue to let Harry struggle. Curiosity won him over. And a sense of solidarity against their mutual embarrassment. 

“Why are you flinging your pole around?” Louis asked. It was the first sentence they had exchanged since they had climbed onto the boat. 

“It’s stuck in something,” Harry confessed, a bit out of breath from his wrestling. 

“And you’re just admitting it now?” Louis said, before realizing that awkward silence was their default, and Harry talking to Louis hadn’t exactly been the norm over the past few days. Or years. 

Unsurprisingly, Harry said nothing in response. _We’re really nailing this whole lads trip,_ Louis thought.

Moving closer to where Harry was, Louis peered over the edge. “It’s stuck in seaweed,” Louis confirmed. “You’re gonna have to get a new hook.”

“Are you sure that’s what we’re supposed to do?” Harry wondered. He made a good point. Louis wasn’t a fishing expert, either. 

Louis shrugged. “Not at all. Just take another pole? I think this show can afford to lose one.”

Raising his eyebrows, Harry said nothing as Louis handed him a spare pole from the side of the boat. It was a good thing that Harry had never been a stickler for rules. 

Silence fell once again as Harry baited his hook a second time. Louis was all too aware of the peaceful quiet surrounding them. The coast of the island behind them was beautiful, with white sand and a few palm trees. Out in front of him, the ocean stretched on for miles, endlessly tranquil.

This was so much better than a drizzly, grey day in London. Louis would have been content to sit in silence for hours, enjoying the peace. 

But it was only a matter of time before the producers actually realized that the tension between them was real. There was a radio on the boat so the producers could give them any necessary instructions, and Louis was sure that they’d be prompted if the silence continued on. 

Glancing over at the cameras in the next boat, Louis sighed inwardly before making a decision. 

“So Harry,” Louis said, staring ahead. “Tell me about yourself.” 

_As if I don’t already know everything about you._

Though he didn’t look over directly, Louis could tell that the look Harry gave him was calculated, before Harry finally gave a nod. A nod that, to the casual viewer, could be construed as a response to Louis’ request, but to Louis it was more of an agreement. Harry was agreeing to do whatever Louis was trying to do right now. 

“Well,” Harry started, “I own a bakery. Been baking for a few years now.”

“How did you get into it?” Louis said, surprised at how even his voice was. _Tell me how you started baking, when you’d never considered it while I knew you._

Harry shifted slightly. “Well, I went to culinary school and all that. I was actually planning to be a chef at first.”

“Really?” Louis replied, feigning shock. He wondered if his voice sounded incredulous enough for the viewers back home. No doubt that Liam would be covering his eyes when he saw this episode. 

Based on the questioning look Harry gave Louis, it may have sounded perhaps _too_ enthusiastic. “Really.” He paused. “I’d wanted to be a chef since I was a kid.”

Instead of the ‘ _I know’_ that echoed in his head, Louis said, “How old were you?” 

Harry looked at him for a second, before the corner of his mouth lifted up. “Maybe around eight,” he mused, taking on a thoughtful tone. “My mum was in the kitchen all the time and I just loved being with her. It wasn’t until I went to uni that I started really discovering my passion, though.”

Louis nodded. As if he hadn’t spent hours watching him in the kitchen, trying sample after sample, being Harry’s most dedicated taste tester. There was a lump in his throat, but instead, he swallowed it and said, “So did you end up going to culinary school?”

“I did,” Harry said. “And I liked it.”

This was the part Louis had no idea about, because Louis had already been on his way out of Harry’s life by then. So Louis’ question was genuine when he asked, “So then what made you change your mind?”

“I had to take a three-day workshop on bread making,” Harry said, a grin spreading across his face. “And as soon as I started, I couldn’t get enough of it. I fell in love with it.”

Louis could picture it, a 25 year old Harry eagerly working his hands through dough, eyes lighting up as he learned. It was so like Harry to discover something he loved and to find pure delight in it. 

“I learned how to make different kinds of bread, and pastries too. Then I learned how to make cakes, and they were just so fun. I love to cook, but I think the baking industry is just more for me. Less stressful, in a way, less fast-paced. More joyous.” 

Louis nodded. “Wow.” An odd feeling washed through him, like he was experiencing a brief sense of disconnectedness. The world tilted on its axis before it righted itself again. It was weird to know so much about Harry, but to not know at the same time. 

A second passed, before Louis realized that he was supposed to contribute something to the conversation. “I’m really bad at baking,” he said hastily. “Cooking, too.” He paused. “I’m getting better, though.”

A flash of surprise passed over Harry’s face. “Really?” Louis couldn’t blame him. He was probably recalling all the times Louis almost burnt the house down with waffles. 

Louis felt overwhelmed by the moment, of explaining to Harry, _Harry_ of all people how he had changed in the past few years. He couldn’t help but think back to that one night, the first time he had cooked. Was Harry thinking about that night as well? 

_I love you_. 

Louis waved the thoughts away, looking down at his feet. “Yeah. I live on my own. Had to learn how to fend for myself.” 

Harry leaned forward. “So what can you make?” he asked, a little shakily, intrigued. 

Louis knew that this wasn’t something Harry was faking. Probably because Harry had witnessed Louis’ cooking skills and knew that they had been beyond saving. 

“Well,” Louis said. “Pasta, for one. Chicken. I tried making soup once and that was bad.”

Harry chuckled. “Soup isn’t easy. It’s not just water, you know.”

Louis blinked slowly, a wry smile spreading over his face. “Yeah, I know.” _You were the one who told me._

Louis wondered what this would look like, to anyone who was watching back home. A conversation of getting to know each other, perhaps, rather than a catch up between two former lovers. Funny how that was. 

“You’re in law,” Harry suddenly piped up. “Tell me about that,” he said. He shot Louis a reassuring smile. 

So Louis did. Maybe it was because they were stuck on a boat for an unforeseeable amount of time, but he found himself telling Harry about life in London, what his most recent job as a paralegal had been like. Left out the part about how he had always been stubborn with words, because that part, Harry knew. Left out the part about his university years. That part, Harry knew too. 

It wasn’t until halfway through his spiel that he realized how Harry was in his position, knowing nothing about his life until now. _Is it as weird for you as it is for me? To have both our lives move on?_

Harry hadn’t known about how long the hours were, how the firm was, how Louis found pride in his cases and threw himself in every part of the work. And as Louis spoke, Harry nodded, humming appropriately at parts, asking questions at the right time. 

_Am I giving away too much?_ Louis wondered, unsure how much you were supposed to tell your ex. There was a layer of vulnerability that was revealed when telling someone too much. But something in Harry’s attentiveness urged him to continue speaking. 

“That’s great,” Harry said when Louis ended. “Law school sounds like a great adventure to have.” The tone of his voice sounded sincere. As if he was genuinely happy for Louis. 

“I suppose,” Louis mumbled, and, he was suddenly aware of how much he had opened himself up to Harry, under the pretense of relieving tension. Just sitting there, listening to Harry, uncurled the strongest yearning within him. Louis missed him. He was so close, yet there was a huge distance between them, all the time that had passed. 

As if sensing Louis’ discomfort, Harry shifted and moved slightly away from Louis’ space, turning his eyes away from Louis’ face and towards the water, instead. He began to open his mouth, when something in Louis’ peripheral vision caught his eye. 

One corner of the boat was being tugged slightly, pulled to the side by a yanking on one of the fishing poles positioned on the ground. “That’s yours,” Louis said to Harry. “It’s your pole!”

Eyes growing wide, Harry sprung up. “Oh my God,” he said. “What do I do?”

“Reel it in, you dummy,” Louis said, wanting to laugh at how ridiculous Harry was. At Louis’ command, Harry rushed to his pole, hands working quickly at the reel to bring in his catch. 

Squinting at the fish in the water, Louis couldn’t really make out what it was, but maybe that was due to his limited knowledge of fish species. 

“It’s a red bream,” Harry declared as he finally pulled it out of the water, holding up the pole to show Louis, as if Louis wasn’t able to see it. “They’re delicious!”

Of course Harry would know what kind of fish it was. Louis peered at the fish, flopping haphazardly. “Think you can catch another one of these? Then I can lounge over here.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Not a chance. You know what,” he said, mischief twinkling in his eyes, “I saw a net somewhere here. We can fish together.”

“I’m weak,” Louis tried, except he knew that wouldn’t work. Because half an hour later, him and Harry were hauling a net full of fish in. 

“I wish we did this before the poles,” Harry stated. “I looked so dumb for an hour.”

 _You always look dumb,_ Louis wanted to say, the joke about to escape from his mouth. Instead, he kept his lips shut, and tried to avert his eyes from Harry’s bare torso, open and golden, his array of tattoos. Instead, he turned to look out at the view. 

The expanse of water before him was unending, the water so blue that it almost looked artificial. But fish couldn’t swim in artificial water, and Louis peered over the edge as a school of tiny fish zipped by. 

Louis had always wanted to go on a holiday to somewhere tropical like this. He remembered bringing it up to Harry a few times too, but they couldn’t afford it back when they were in uni. It was a bit laughable, to see where they were now. 

“Nice work,” Harry said, into the silence, smiling to himself. “We’re the dream fishing team.”

Louis glanced at Harry, seeing that he was completely relaxed on the boat, eyes closed and face tilted towards the sun. Long lashes cast shadows across his face, his hair a wild mess from the wind and the seawater. 

“Yeah,” Louis murmured more so to himself than to Harry. They had always been the case for them. They _had_ been the dream team, at least back then. 

Suddenly, Louis heard a faint voice calling for them. It was Carla on the radio, letting them know that the trip was over.

“Time for us to go, I guess,” Louis said, making sure nothing had been lost to the water. 

The producers called for the boat to be brought back, and they found themselves zooming toward shore. The sun was still high in the sky, but signs were pointing to late afternoon. _Were we really out here for that long?_ It hadn’t felt like it. Louis wondered just how tanned he would be after this.

Tilting his head up at the sun, Louis allowed himself to soak in a few rays, listening to the waves zip by as the boat skimmed along the water. It was nice, to just allow himself to relax like this, out in the open blue. He had to savour it while he still could.

He thought about Harry’s amicable demeanor toward him today, how willing he was to play the part of new friend. Maybe they could be friends. 

Louis stole a glance at Harry, who was skimming his hand across the water. Could they? It was a thought.

In the end, only a quarter of their catch was kept, given that it wasn’t entirely realistic to bring back a whole pile of smelly fish back to the villa. The fishing was only for television, after all. 

“Looks like we’re gonna have quite a feast,” Harry remarked, as the fishermen helped bring in their catch.

“Remember, the boys are going to have to cook tonight for the girls,” one of the producers said before hopping into the producer van. 

Turning to Harry, Louis wrinkled his nose. “I’m not doing that.”

“Thought you had sharpened your cooking skills?” Harry said, raising a brow. He turned towards their own van, where their driver was waiting. Louis watched him head towards the car, gearing himself for something — what it was, Louis wasn’t completely sure yet. He just knew he had to say _something_ before they went back into the villa and were once again surrounded by everyone else. 

Louis glanced around, confirming that there were no producers or cameras before he called out to Harry. “Hey.”

Harry turned around. “Yeah?” he replied, a question in his eyes. 

Pursing his lips, Louis paused a moment before speaking. “I… I don’t want things to be awkward between us. We’re both on reality television, and I guess this is kind of a weird situation for us to be in.”

“Reality television and a dating show,” Harry added, arching an eyebrow. “Who would’ve thought.”

“Yeah. I don’t want to ruin your experience of the show,” Louis continued slowly. “Or anything. You know.” There was a time in his life that he would’ve considered himself an eloquent person. Evidently, this was not the time. 

Something imperceptible passed over Harry’s expression. “Yeah,” he replied quietly. “Yeah.” He held out his hand, a small but genuine grin on his face. “Alright, then?”

Louis stretched his arm out, feeling Harry’s hand in his for the second time in years. The way Harry gripped was solid, strong. Familiar. 

“Yeah,” Louis said, meeting Harry’s searching green eyes. “Yeah, we are.” 

\---

The tight atmosphere that had accompanied their ride to the marina was now gone as they rode back. Instead, conversation was light, with Harry pointing out different things as they drove past the Spanish scenery. It was a stark contrast to how it had felt a few days prior. 

In fact, it felt kind of nice. 

“Look at those hills,” Harry commented. “I wish we had hills like that back home.”

Louis couldn’t help smiling at Harry’s wistfulness as he stared out the window, noting that he had been right about Harry enjoying the sightseeing. 

The stench of fish had begun to permeate the van as they drove (was this why the producers had ridden separately?) but even this hadn’t phased Louis. He was glad that he’d had this trip, and when he caught the driver wrinkling his nose, Louis couldn’t help but laugh.

But as they stepped into the driveway of the villa, a screeching noise caught Louis’ ears, puncturing the peace of the ride. Louis and Harry exchanged a quizzical expression, and suddenly the shouting got much louder as the van parked next to the villa.

Louis walked through the doors slowly, preparing for the worst. Harry trailed behind him, just as uncertain. He saw Zayn walk out of a door and down one of the private hallways for the producers, lips drawn in a grim line. 

When they entered the villa, they were greeted with the cameramen anxiously capturing their reaction. 

“What the hell is going on,” Louis muttered. Nearing the backyard, Louis was able to make out an angry woman yelling in an Irish accent. Nora? 

This was instantly confirmed as they stepped out of the house. They were met with the sight of Nora, hands thrown into the air as she yelled at Liz, who was crossing her arms defiantly. Behind them stood Niall, who looked frozen, as if he wasn’t sure what to do. The rest of the islanders were clustered together in a group a slight distance away, a mix of alarm and amusement on their faces. Based on the fact that no one was interfering, Louis figured that despite the aggressive yelling, no one’s life was on the line. Yet. 

Perhaps it was the distance, but Louis found it difficult to make out what Nora was saying. Looking around, he realized that the rest of the islanders looked just as confused. “What are they yelling about?” Harry said, mirroring Louis’ thoughts.

Upon hearing Harry, Charlotte turned toward them. “Oh! You guys made it in time for the big show. Nora is angry at Liz.” She had to speak loudly, over the noise of Nora’s shouting and Liz’s responses.

“We can see that,” Louis said as Liz yelled something that sounded like a string of obscenities. “But what for?”

Charlotte pursed her lips. “We think it’s because Liz has been talking to Niall a lot recently? Honestly, we’re not really sure, she didn’t really take the time to explain.” 

Just as Charlotte finished her sentence, Liz began to yell again. Louis craned his neck in an attempt to try to hear what she was saying. Hm. He glanced over at Harry, who looked like he was trying to suppress a grin. It was kind of amusing, he had to admit, though probably not for Niall. 

“Mike said he was just standing there with Liz when Nora came and started shouting,” Charlotte said, as if she was recounting a serious story. She nodded at Mike, who was standing at the front of the group, who appeared to be trying to relay the gossip to the rest of the islanders. 

“I have to be honest, Irish people speak really fast when they’re angry, and I don’t understand half of what the two of them are saying,” Mike stage whispered when Louis edged his way to him, eyes shifting back and forth like he was watching an intense sports game. “Liz is saying that Nora’s been going after her man without asking her first. Nora is saying that Niall should be able to make the decision for himself.”

Louis blinked at the scene before him. “And what has Niall been saying?” 

All three of them looked over at Niall, who was turning more red by the minute and started to look back and forth between the girls with wide eyes, more and more bewildered as the argument escalated. 

“Niall’s just been standing here the whole time. Honestly, I think this is a nightmare for him,” Mike said.

“You’re just thick-headed, you fucking idiot,” Nora hollered at Liz, throwing her arms in the air. 

“Well you don’t deserve him,” Liz shouted back. “Don’t even know how to play golf! As if Niall would want you or that yellow bikini!” At Liz’s comment, Nora gasped, glancing down at the bright neon number she was wearing.

Harry whistled, placing a hand over his heart. “Damn. She really went for the yellow bikini.”

“I don’t blame her,” Louis muttered. “She looks like a warning sign.”

Nora’s voice rose higher and higher, visible anger in her voice. Liz, on the other hand, kept her ground, feet planted firmly as Nora stepped closer to her. 

“Should we step in?” Julia asked the group, beginning to look concerned.

“You better do it,” Lainey said, nudging Mike anxiously. “Maybe she’ll listen to you.”

Mike shot a glance over at Lainey and pouted. “I liked the drama, do we have to stop them?” 

Lainey huffed, rolling her eyes in resignation. “I’ll do it,” she said, marching over. “Okay girls,” she yelled, wedging her way in between Nora and Liz, “I have no idea what’s going on here, but let’s calm down!”

Louis caught Harry looking over at him, shaking his head in silent laughter as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Stifling a grin, Louis stepped over to him. 

“Niall looks relieved,” Harry chuckled, jutting a chin out at the Irish man, who had quickly clambered out of the chaos as soon as Lainey had interfered. 

“I’d be relieved too if I just got rescued from a warzone,” Louis said, and couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the whole thing was. At the sound, Niall turned around, clearly in distress. _Help,_ he mouthed. 

_You’re doing great, sweetie,_ Louis mouthed back, giving him a thumbs up. Niall scowled in reply.

“Do you think this will go down in history?” Harry mused. 

Louis imagined _Love Island_ showing up in history textbooks. _Alright class, now who were the two girls fighting for Niall Horan’s affection?_ “I’m sure he’ll remember the Great Irish Fight for years to come.” 

“The Great Irish Fight?” Harry snorted. “Does that make Niall an Irish Knight?” 

Niall as a knight, ha. Based on what that had just happened right in front of them, Niall didn’t do much fighting. “I think he’s more the damsel in distress.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully, as if he was taking in Louis’ notes with serious consideration. “Fitting. They could make a Disney adaptation from this.” 

Just as Louis was about to make a joke of _do you think Disney would let us play the voice actors,_ Eleanor appeared, lightly placing a hand on his elbow. “Louis,” she said, wrapping an arm around him, and surprising him with a kiss on the cheek. 

Suddenly, with Harry’s presence next to him, Louis immediately felt awkward. Thankfully, he recovered quickly enough to smile at Eleanor, hoping that it had been convincing enough for the cameras.

“You’re back,” she said, even though it was stated more like a fact and less like an elated greeting from a lover. Well. She was trying. “How was fishing?”

“Fun,” Louis said, looking over at Harry, who now looked more tense, lips pursed together. 

“Yeah, it was fun,” Harry said, smiling, although it didn’t really reach his eyes. “Louis caught a lot of fish.”

Had he? “I feel like we caught the majority together,” Louis said. 

Harry shrugged, lips lifted, before turning to the door. “I’m gonna go help Raul unload the fish. Nice seeing you, Eleanor,” he said politely, before walking off towards the villa doors. 

Eleanor glanced at Louis, confused. “Why did he say ‘nice seeing you, Eleanor’ like I don’t live in the same house with him?”

“I don’t know,” Louis lied, even though he had a suspicion as to why. He stared at the door where Harry had just retreated into. “I don’t know.”

\---

Louis was lounging on a beanbag chair when Niall found him an hour later. While Louis was stretching into a state of lazy relaxation, he could tell that his friend was the complete opposite of that, a look of pure despair and stress written all over his face. Louis knew that the Irish got flushed fairly easily, but even he was a little concerned at how _red_ his friend’s face was. 

“You alright, mate?” Louis asked, giving Niall a firm squeeze on the shoulder. Louis understood how Niall felt. Well, maybe not exactly. It wasn’t like _he_ had two beautiful women fighting over him. But the despair part, that was something he could relate to, at least, what with having his ex of two years sleeping across from him with someone else every night. 

“Yeah, yeah, you know how it is, just going to have to talk to them, won’t I?” Niall replied, gesturing towards the girls. All of them were sitting in a circle around the lounge area without Liz, clearly gossiping about the events that had just transpired. 

Louis’ eyes drifted towards Harry, who had somehow relocated to the kitchen. Whereas the rest of the islanders were still recounting the events that had just happened an hour ago, Harry seemed perfectly content to lean against the counter, lips curled up, munching thoughtfully on a carrot. At the sight, Louis couldn’t help but bite back a grin at how Harry it was, to be lost in his own world, seemingly unaffected by the chaos happening around him. 

Harry’s eyes shifted and met his, and for a moment Louis could see a mixture of emotions cross his face until it finally settled on an expression that looked happy but reserved. Louis thought back to how they were joking before. Louis had forgotten what it was like to joke with Harry, had forgotten how lively their conversations often were. Distractedly, Louis turned back towards Niall to answer his question, only to see Niall watching Harry, as well. 

“So, how did it go?” Niall asked, raising a brow. 

_Where to start?_ Louis thought to himself, mentally going through the day’s events. _Well, I finally got to spend time with my ex, who I haven’t seen in two years. I learned that he loves his bakery and that he knows the difference between all sorts of fish. We’re going to try being… friends?_

“We went fishing,” was what Louis settled on. “And apparently Harry’s gonna de-gut those fish or something so we can all eat.”

A pout appeared on Niall’s face. “So now we’re all forced to eat Harry’s fish, because you guys got to have fun on your lads trip? That’s so unfair.” He looked less than happy. “I hope _you_ didn’t catch it. Not sure if I would eat anything you’ve put your hands on,” he added, giving Louis a suspicious look.

Louis laughed, and not for the first time today, like a bit of tension had been released from his shoulders. After a moment, Niall joined in too, and they lay there sprawled on the grass, sniggering to themselves. 

“But for real, Lou,” Niall began, once they had stopped laughing. “You weren’t here when we were all talking about it, but some people think that maybe Harry acts weird around you because he’s actually interested in El. Charlotte said she saw how he introduced himself to her on the first night, and that they were flirting during the first recoupling.”

And that — _that_ caught Louis’ attention. Because, no. Louis could certifiably say that that was _not_ why he and Harry were acting like arses around each other. 

Louis couldn’t hold back his snort. “Not sure about that, mate. We talked about it, and trust me. We’re good now. No more drama,” he finished, standing up to stretch his legs a bit. 

The sun was quickly setting, and it would soon be time for supper. While Louis was sure he would enjoy Harry’s cooking, he sincerely hoped that the staff would also bring in their designated meals for the evening. Knowing how picky some of the other islanders were, Louis highly doubted they would all survive if all they had to eat were the tiny fish he and Harry had caught earlier today. 

Niall studied him in silence, before shrugging his shoulders and getting up, as well. 

“Fair enough,” he said, and that was that.

\---

After having completed his beach hut interview for the day, Louis found Harry in the kitchen. 

Harry was in his element, working the kitchen as though by magic. Louis had always known that Harry would be a talented cook, but seeing him make food after so many years made him realize that Harry had _improved_. And a lot, at that. Louis would be first to admit that he knew shit all about cooking, but even he could tell that Harry had a new, professional aura to the way he managed the space. 

Harry looked up, a small grin tucked into the corner of his mouth as he continued to de-gut the fish they had caught. He didn’t say anything, and Louis was happy to watch in silence with a cup of tea sitting on the counter. 

Years before, when Louis had first visited Harry’s flat, he had quickly learned to step back and not get in Harry’s way. _“I just don’t like people around the kitchen when I’m seriously cooking,”_ he had said earnestly, looking apologetic. 

So Louis didn’t get in his way. And in return, Harry cooked him all sorts of new inventions — some of which were delicious, and others that had belonged in the pits of hell. But even through some of those questionable dishes, Louis had been able to see Harry become more and more passionate. And now? Harry was an expert, clearly.

Louis felt a small twinge of nostalgia at the memories, mixed with a sense of anxiety. He really had to stop doing that, stop fooling himself and making comparisons to the way everything was back then. He didn’t even know why he was doing it. He hadn’t done it in the past few years, so why now? 

_You don’t know what Harry wants,_ Louis chastised himself, taking a deep breath. Never mind the fact that Louis wasn’t completely sure about anything at the moment. Louis just needed to be rational. 

As usual, Louis was looking forward to dinner. Not only because he finally got to eat (Louis wasn’t one to skip food, okay? He needed his three meals a day, plus snacks, dessert, and possibly a bag of crisps on top), but also because it meant that he could actually _breathe_ , and talk to everyone else without dreading the inevitable judgement that would come from viewers back at home. 

\---

Louis and Niall were in the middle of devouring their portions of fish when Zayn ambled by, looking more disheveled than usual (which was to say, only slightly disheveled, since Zayn usually looked immaculate even in extreme heat). He grabbed a plate of food before settling on the chair beside them, glaring at Niall. Louis raised his brows.

“Niall, can you just _pick_ one of the girls so we can figure out a way to get rid of the other one?” Zayn whispered, leaning towards them so that the other islanders wouldn’t hear. “I can’t… I can’t stand it anymore. I can’t stand _them_.” 

Louis would personally have been a fan of eliminating Nora, because then her annoying partner, Mike, would probably be gone too. But that was just his opinion. 

He tilted his head towards the group of islanders. Louis looked over and couldn’t help but snort upon seeing that Nora and Liz were into another round of arguments. It didn’t seem as if the producers were succeeding in prying them apart either, attempting to save their argument until _after_ dinner when the cameras started rolling again. And God, was that Jasper _really_ trying to convince them they should go for _him_ instead of Niall? 

Louis felt some pity for the producers. Looked like tonight would be a struggle. 

Zayn looked over at the arguing women as well, a look of frazzled disdain clear on his face. Louis had to laugh. Zayn wasn’t even on the show, and yet he was begging for Niall to make a choice to save him from his own headache. Really, Louis couldn’t blame him. 

“Sorry, just, I don’t really know what I can do about it,” Niall replied, giving a shrug before loading another heap of food on his plate. “Harry, this fish is amazing,” he added, speaking with his mouth full.

Niall, apparently, had passed his stage of despair and had now decided to just pretend Nora and Liz didn’t exist for the time being. It was a bit impressive, really, how Niall transitioned from panic to not giving any fucks. Louis wished he could do the same. 

The producers decided that the resolution was to place Nora and Liz at separate ends of the table, like they were in nursery again. To be fair, some of the islanders _did_ have the mentality of five-year olds.

Dinner passed, and after a slew of comments about how well Louis and Harry had done on their fishing expedition — although Harry was the one who really deserved the compliments on his cooking — they headed back to the main lawn to resume filming. As Louis took a seat next to Niall, he saw Harry speaking to Lainey, looking amused at whatever she had said. In the fading light of the sunset, Harry’s face was partially covered by shadows, making him look older and more rugged than he really was. 

Lainey flipped her hair and gave Harry a decidedly not-so-subtle smile, which sent a flicker of irritation through Louis. _Desperate much?_ he thought to himself, rolling his eyes. _She’s not even paired up with him._ He noticed Ethan watching Lainey as well, looking decidedly unhappy. Everything was a mess. 

Zayn glanced up at the scene around him and sighed, looking more resigned than he had a minute ago. He went back to texting. 

Louis worried about Zayn’s health, sometimes. The least Niall could do was end things with one of the girls. If only to make Zayn’s life a bit easier.

“Who ya textin’?' asked Niall, leaning over Zayn’s shoulder.

Zayn looked up, appearing caught. “Uh, just a friend,” he replied, hastily putting his phone away. 

“Friend, or, y’know, _friend_?” Niall waggled his brows, looking gleeful. Ever since they had begun hanging out, Niall and Louis found that the one thing they both mutually enjoyed, to no end, was teasing Zayn. And it was made even better by how embarrassed Zayn looked every time.

Louis stepped closer, interested. Well, well. Liam could be a tit, sure, but at the end of the day Louis was still on sleuthing duty for his best friend. This way he could tell Liam that he had at least _tried_. And this could be key information. 

“Niall, don’t be an arse,” Louis said, with the pretence of coming to Zayn’s aid. Zayn’s face was slightly flushed, his eyes looking anywhere but at him and Niall. Louis leaned in, forcing Zayn to look at him.

“Zayn, you know you’re my favourite camera man. My favourite sad, depressed Johnny Depp...” Louis began. “Friend, or… y’know, _friend_?” he asked, his voice ending in barely a whisper. Niall burst into laughter beside him.

“You guys are twats,” Zayn huffed, but his mouth was curved into a small smile. “Hope you have a horrible time,” he called, walking away, throwing up a V before disappearing into the crew workers’ tent. Louis noted that Zayn reached for his phone again, just as he was disappearing from view. Huh.

Louis turned towards Niall. “He called us _twats_ ,” Niall gasped in mock offense, and they grinned towards each other as they headed towards the large group. 


	8. Chapter 8

**@PeteKitch95: Why is Louis from Love Island a fucking hoot I’m inviting him to the pub after all of this #GreatIrishFight #LoveIslandUK**

\---

Louis had no idea what the _fuck_ spray paint laser tag was, but apparently that was the challenge of the day. The islanders were absolutely buzzing, the energy and excitement palpable in the air as they stood in front of the field, set up in something that resembled a maze of barrels.

“Girls versus boys — if you get shot you’re eliminated,” said Lainey, as she read the text on her phone. “And whichever team wins gets a nice gift basket with champagne and chocolates!” 

All around them, the girls squealed, the boys hollered. Carla came around to everyone, passing out tiny bathing suits that they would all need to wear to identify which team they were on. Was it weird that Louis was already getting used to the amount of skin they all had to show?

Mike was going on and on about how he was the laser tag _master_ , Niall (as per usual) was caught in between Nora and Liz, and Harry… well. Harry looked horribly lost in all the equipment that had been given to them. The helmet he was wearing as sitting askew on his head, and Louis was pretty sure those knee pads were upside down.

“I think you face the gun the other way round, H,” Louis said quietly, before mentally kicking himself for having said anything. 

Harry turned in Louis’ direction, startled, and immediately flushed. He bit his lip, ducking his face towards the ground as he readjusted his spray paint gun. His skin was lit by the last few minutes of sunlight, and Louis had to suppress the urge to help tighten his straps, to make sure Harry was all good to go, because _no_. 

“Thanks,” Harry said, looking a bit sheepish. He fiddled clumsily with his equipment a bit more, shooting Louis an uncertain glance. 

“You’ll be fine, Harry,” Louis replied, swallowing. Harry could do this on his own. He wasn’t a _child,_ for god’s sake. 

“Oi! You lads ready to _go_?” Niall roared, flexing his biceps. Louis honestly wasn’t sure who exactly he was trying to impress with those, but he could certifiably say none of the men were anywhere near remotely intimidated by Niall’s arms. But Louis was grateful for the distraction, anyway. 

Harry turned away from Louis, breaking the thick atmosphere of tension that had briefly formed between them. Niall gave each of the boys a fist bump, and they were off. 

The girls were better than Louis had expected. Right off the bat, Lainey hit an unsuspecting Jasper and ducked back behind a corner as he stood there, dumbfounded. And as ditzy as Julia was, she was fast — quickly pelting Mike before whooping and making a run across the field. Even their days of playing Call of Duty couldn’t save them now when it came to the girls’ quick reflexes.

Louis didn’t realize how out of shape he was until they started running. The open gym on the front lawn was nowhere near enough for him — it was cardio that he was missing, what with being cooped up in the villa all the time. Looking to his left, he saw Niall wheezing too, squatting behind a large metal barrel that was part of the course. 

“I hate running,” Niall muttered. 

“I can tell, Niall,” Louis replied — before a shout caught his attention. 

“Lou! To your right!” Harry yelled from across the field, and how Harry was able to see Charlotte aiming a gun at him from all the way where he was, Louis had no idea — but it was enough for him to roll out of the way. 

Niall whistled. “Eagle eyes, Styles,” he shouted, and Harry gave a rushed thumbs up before ducking back down in haste. 

It wasn’t long until Niall got shot by Lainey, leaving Louis without an accomplice. Looking around, he saw several of his teammates on the sidelines, covered in paint. Most of them had been eliminated. Fuck. He was on his own.

That was, until a body almost crashed into him from his right. He knew who the clumsiness belonged to even before the person spoke.

“Oops,” Harry said, sounding out of breath. 

“You’re still alive,” Louis remarked. He hoped it sounded casual, with Harry so close, so suddenly. “Thanks for saving my arse back there,” he added.

“Yeah, of course,” Harry said, holding up his gun in response. He paused before saying, “Can’t be saving your arse all the time, though. Gotta do your fair share for the team.”

Louis jerked his head to look at him, and found an uncertain but challenging spark in Harry’s eyes. 

Harry was messing around with him. Like he was extending an olive branch of friendliness. There was no force in it either; he was trying to make a joke for the sake of it. 

This was what their fishing trip had led to — Harry was offering a new beginning. An opportunity to put aside the past, even. 

And this was the best case scenario, wasn’t it? Even if Louis had to watch Harry potentially fall in love with someone else right in front of him. And maybe it wasn’t the most favorable outcome. But if he could have Harry smile at him, with no resentment of the past few years, Louis would take it.

So Louis narrowed his eyes, trying to look as threatening as he could. “You calling me dead weight?” he asked in response, and Harry grinned back, nostrils flaring slightly in glee. If there was one thing that Harry knew, it was that Louis was one competitive son of a bitch. 

“Maybe,” Harry said, gazing out at the field. When his eyes met Louis’ again, they were playful. “There’s four more girls out there. Wanna see who can take them out the fastest?”

Shaking his head, Louis pointed a finger at Harry. “You know I’m gonna win.”

“Then prove it,” Harry yelled, before sprinting off.

And okay, Harry had gotten a head start, which was _not_ fair. If Harry wasn’t a determining factor in gaining victory for his team, Louis would have shot him then and there. But there was a bet to be won, and so Louis took to the left, gun held high.

And if Louis went after Lainey a little bit harder than he should have, then, well. As long as no one called him out for it, he was happy to keep things to himself.

\---

In the end, their team won, even though neither Louis or Harry did. They had both only taken out one girl each — with Liz and Nora firing on each other instead. Both girls had been covered with a tremendous amount of paint, and looked equally miserable by the time the challenge was over. Louis wished Niall good luck, seeing as he now had the formidable task of consoling both of them. Possibly at the same time. 

From the corner of his eye, Louis spotted Eleanor releasing a frustrated groan aimed at her teammates, seeming much less composed than usual. So yeah. It was safe to say that drama was alive and well.

 _Ping_. “Got a text!” Ethan shouted delightedly. The girls audibly grumbled amongst themselves. Try as he may, Louis couldn’t help the way the corner of his mouth quirked up. He had to at least enjoy _some_ things in the villa, and he very much enjoyed beating other people in competitions. He wouldn’t have gone into law otherwise.

“Congratulations on winning the challenge. Boys — we’re taking you somewhere nice to enjoy your prize, better wash off that paint. Girls — time for you to help clean up! #lifesabeach #washitalloff”

Following this announcement, Niall untangled himself from Nora, who had suddenly needed help retying her bikini top, and released a distinct sigh of relief. “Fuckin’ hell, thank God we’re leaving,” he muttered in a low voice.

And when Louis saw Harry waving a small goodbye towards Julia, he thought to himself that he couldn’t agree more. 

The boys had jumped out of the limo to find themselves in a park of sorts, and met by a picnic table in a nice gazebo, and a wonderful spread of food laid before them. Champagne, chocolates, cheeses. It was like they were in Paris or something. For a prize where they had initially only been promised a gift basket, this was a pretty sweet deal.

“Fuck yes,” Niall breathed, as if he hadn’t been able to eat cheese and chocolate for years. He tackled the gift basket with gusto, as did the rest of them. Louis understood. It was the freedom that was exciting, and the opportunity to indulge and enjoy. 

“If winning challenges gets us out of the villa more, I say we win the remainder of all the challenges,” declared Jasper, chewing with his mouth open. God. Had anyone ever taught Jasper what manners were?

“Not all the challenges have rewards, idiot,” Ethan said, whacking Jasper on the head good-naturedly. He held up the champagne bottle. “Shall we have a toast?”

“We shall,” Jasper said, taking the bottle from Ethan and earning a grunt from him. A cheer went up among the boys when the cork popped off, and Mike took the initiative to pour glasses for all of them. 

Raising a glass, Mike turned to the boys. “Here’s to the great time on the island so far. And to Louis and Harry for carrying the team.”

“To Louis and Harry!” the rest of the boys bellowed, and Louis caught Harry’s eye, looking amused. 

Harry lifted his champagne toward Louis. “Cheers?”

“Cheers,” Louis said, clinking his glass to Harry’s before taking a swig.

Setting his glass down, Louis leaned back in his chair. “You did good out there, Styles,” he said, the nickname slipping out before he could stop it. It was just a nickname, one that everyone used. But still, it was a nickname, and Louis felt a mild heat spike up his neck in response.

But Harry grinned, smiling a little bashfully. “But not as good as you, I bet you were going to say?”

Louis tried to hide a smile, but without a champagne flute to mask his face, it came out as a long twitch. “You said it, not me.”

In response, Harry laughed, and Louis finally surrendered to the grin appearing on his own face, too. 

Conversing with Harry, like this — that was something Louis hadn’t anticipated, especially if he had been asked five months ago. But now he was reminded of all the laughs they shared, of how well they had always gotten along. They had been friends at first, after all — before Louis had pulled himself together and had had the guts to ask Harry out.

But yes. Friendship. Friendship, this was something that they could learn how to do again. 

“That fish you made yesterday,” Louis said, trying to sound nonchalant. It was the first in a long time that he was talking about Harry’s cooking to him. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he was in the kitchen with Harry, watching Harry’s eyes light up with joy as Louis tasted various sauces that he’d been explicitly forbidden to dip his finger into.

And even now, Louis could see the attentiveness in Harry’s face when he answered, “Yeah?” 

“It was really good,” Louis said, and even though it was just a simple comment, Harry broke out into a grin. 

“Thanks,” Harry said. “I really like cooking fish.”

And this gave Louis an opportunity to mess with Harry a bit. Because they were friends now, right? This was what friends did.

“I don’t really like fish that much,” Louis said breezily, and Harry’s head whipped towards him. 

It was no secret between them that Louis’ favourite dish was a nice grilled salmon. It took one look at Louis’ smug grin for Harry to catch on. And the thing was, Harry wasn’t able to call him out on it. Because they were on television.

“Really?” Harry said, a sarcastic edge to his tone that, Louis knew, the viewers wouldn’t catch. “I guess I won’t make fish next time, then. How about veal?”

Veal was Louis’ least favourite meat. It took all of him not to glare at Harry, who was looking more and more pleased with himself. 

“I’m allergic to veal,” Louis said.

“Oh, I didn’t know,” Harry replied casually. “What else are you allergic to?”

“Marshmallows,” Louis said, and Harry shot him an unimpressed look. By now, Louis was sure that the audience would probably be scratching their heads, wondering why they were having such an oddly specific conversation. 

“I’m allergic to cats,” Niall offered from across the table. Oh. Right. There were other people sitting with them. 

“Are you allergic to catfights, too?” Ethan asked, earning a laugh from the table and the middle finger from Niall.

The heat, along with the physical activity that day, was a perfect concoction to induce drowsiness. As soon as the car took off, Ethan and Jasper passed out. Jasper was snoring particularly loudly, his mouth open and his head tilted back over the seat headrest. He was the perfect victim to have a dick drawn on his forehead, if only Louis had a marker.

A couple boys weren’t sleeping, though. Like Mike, who was talking to Niall about Charlotte. And Harry, who was lying back on a picnic blanket in the shade, eating the few remaining grapes from their spread.

Louis allowed a few minutes of silence to pass before saying, “So, what’s your bakery like, Harry?” 

Harry’s new career path, the fact that he had started a _business,_ was something that Louis had been wondering about. He tried to hide the curiosity in his tone, hoping that the words sounded casual.

“It’s wonderful,” Harry responded earnestly. “I really love it.” 

“You would,” Louis replied, the words spilling out of his mouth without permission. “I…” _Can picture you in a bakery setting,_ he wanted to say. “You seem like you’d be really good at pastries.” 

A part of Louis wondered if Harry thought the conversation was too personal, but if Harry felt uneasy at all, he didn’t acknowledge it. 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed instead, nodding. “We do a lot of those. Learned how to frost, too. Took me a while, but I finally mastered the tea-infused flavours. I have an Earl Grey buttercream that’s been really popular for weddings lately.”

“Really? That’s impressive,” Louis said, recalling the hours Harry had spent frustrated, trying to concoct the perfect buttercream one time. Harry had challenged himself to make a cake for Gemma’s birthday. _This is why I’m a_ chef _, Louis,_ he’d said, glaring down at the white icing that was apparently a tiny bit lacking in salt. To Louis, it hadn’t tasted any less perfect than the other five recipes he’d tried, but what did he know?

“It was worth it,” Harry said around a small chuckle. “Beat almost everyone in the class.” Harry cleared his throat before glancing around at the other boys around them, at the extra ears that could be listening. “So, yeah. It’s called Sunflower Bakery. ”

“Sunflower Bakery,” Louis repeated, rolling the words in his mouth. Louis couldn’t help but smile at the sunny name. It was fitting for someone like Harry. “You have sunflowers strung all around?”

A glimmer appeared in Harry’s eyes; there was no doubt that he was thinking about his shop. “Sometimes. We have a lot of light, so we like to put flowers in the front window. It should be tulips right about now, we did the planning before I left.”

Louis could picture Harry meticulously arranging vases around the bakery, making sure that everything matched the decor. “That sounds like an adventure,” Louis said, “especially if it grows after after all this.” 

Harry grinned in response. “It should be,” he said, seemingly lost in thought. 

As usual, it was only a matter of time before they were being ushered back to the van. But this time, Louis appreciated it, appreciated the chance to talk to Harry a bit more about the things he had wanted to know. 

And when Harry decided to squeeze into the seat next to Louis, thigh to thigh, with their elbows sometimes brushing and the wisps of Harry’s curls tickling Louis’ neck when he leaned a bit too close, well. There were worse things in the world.

As they drove, the fact that Harry still didn’t really know how Louis had gotten on the show occurred to him. Louis still hadn’t told him, and he wondered if this question was pressing on Harry like it had pressed him when he had still been wondering why Harry was here. “I wasn’t planning to apply for the show,” Louis confessed. Harry twisted slightly closer, listening. “Like I had told you before, Liam coerced me into sending in my application while we were drunk, and I landed an interview. He told me not to pass up on the opportunity, and…” _And I didn’t know what else to do with my life._ “And I didn’t pass it up. It’s a good way to provide for the girls while I’m in law school.”

Harry nodded as if he understood. He had always known how important Louis’ sisters were to him. “Well, I mean, I’m only here for the bakery, so,” he said, letting out a choppy chuckle. “So,” he said, before glancing at Niall and Mike, who seemed preoccupied by their own conversation. “How is Liam?” 

At the mention of his best friend, Louis smiled fondly, thinking about how Liam was doing, probably watching his every move on television. “Liam is a scout at ITV,” Louis said, watching Harry’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “That’s how I got into this whole fiasco. And,” he added, dropping his voice, “he has a crush on Zayn.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “No way.”

Louis grinned at Harry’s response. It was nice to have someone here who knew Liam, who would be just as excited as Louis was about the situation. “Yes way.”

“Does Zayn know?” Harry asked quietly, as if they were planning a conspiracy.

Louis shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’ve been trying to figure out if he’s seeing anyone.”

Harry looked thoughtful. “Zayn does seem like he would be Liam’s type. You know, dark, mysterious and brooding.”

Louis tried to recall all of Liam’s past exes. “Is that his type? It’s quite specific.”

“Ryan? The one who worked at a coffee shop? Played the mandolin?”

Right. At the memory, a laugh escaped Louis’ mouth. “I forgot about him. Christ, he was annoying.”

The corner of Harry’s lips curled up. “You messed with him a lot.”

Louis recalled the memories of barging into the coffee shop with a yell, the glee that came with seeing Ryan’s irritated face. “That’s because he deserved it.”

A chuckle came from Harry. They fell into a comfortable silence, with the only background noise being Jasper’s snoring and Niall’s chatter about football. 

So, friendship. Louis could do friendship.

Louis had almost forgotten about the drama back in the villa until they arrived, and found Nora and Liz in a weird competition of sorts. About what? Louis didn’t want to know.

“I am leaving,” he announced, watching Nora turn away from Liz and approach Niall as soon as they exited the van. Niall would have to deal with this on his own. 

“At least it’s entertaining to watch,” Eleanor said when Louis plopped down next to her on the lawn. She had a drink in her hand and sunglasses on her face, even though it was evening. Like a true spectator. Niall seemed to be fending off a very aggressive and awkward lap dance as he attempted to sit down on a lounge chair.

In reply, Louis took the drink out of her hand and took a long sip, ignoring Eleanor’s protests. “I deserve this for having to watch,” he argued, placing the glass back in her hand.

The one entertaining thing about the whole situation, though, was Zayn’s reaction every time Nora and Liz did something. Zayn hadn’t been kidding when it came to his contempt regarding Nora and Liz drama. Louis swore he could see the look of annoyance all the way from across the lawn. He was pretty sure Zayn had developed a weird tick in his neck every time one of the girls did yet another thing to get Niall’s attention.

Louis laughed, and caught Harry’s eyes across the lawn. Harry smiled at him.

 _Maybe you could do this,_ Louis told himself, smiling back. Maybe he could stay on the island, after all. Maybe it wouldn’t be as hard as he thought it would be.

Then Julia hooked an arm around Harry, pulling him down into a nearby couch. Louis swallowed, looking away.

Or maybe not.

Eleanor was staring at him with a pensive expression on her face. Louis quickly schooled his expression into one of neutrality, but wasn’t sure it worked. Some days he thought that Eleanor was truly too observant for her own good. And although her perceptiveness _did_ provide a great advantage with regards to island gossip, Louis couldn’t exactly tell her everything that was going on. 

He wished he could, though. Then at least maybe Eleanor could use her insight to tell him what Harry was thinking about, at least. If he was thinking about Julia.

Harry and Julia had been spending more time together. And logically, they were _supposed_ to as a couple — Louis had been doing the same with Eleanor — but it didn’t stop Louis from feeling a pit of dread in his stomach whenever he saw them in together. 

Was Harry interested in Julia? Louis just couldn’t picture it. She was beautiful, but she was also kind of an airhead. Even if they did win the show as a couple, it wouldn’t be long until they realized that they just weren’t compatible. 

And then there was Lainey. Even though she was paired up with Ethan, she had also been talking a lot to Harry lately, which for some reason irked Louis. Maybe because Lainey, unlike Julia, had an actual brain, and therefore had a better probability of ending up with Harry. Still, Louis was pretty sure that Lainey was the kind of girl who went to the club every weekend, and Harry? Harry was the opposite of the clubbing type. Harry was the type who liked to curl up on the sofa and watch _Westworld_ until 1 AM. Harry wasn’t into those girls, right? Or, well. Maybe he was, he had seemed to spend a lot of time with girls like Lainey when he had been in New York. But there was no way they were compatible, either, right? 

Not like how Louis and Harry were.

Louis’ head swam. _You still care about him,_ Louis told himself, examining his fingernails to look like he wasn’t paying attention to Harry. Because he couldn’t look like he gave a shit when he really did, could he? 

It was natural. That was what he was going to tell himself. He had been with Harry for a few years, together as a _couple_ , no less, so of course it was natural that he was going to feel slightly protective of Harry. But. Still. 

Louis couldn’t help but wonder if it would have been better or worse if he was stuck at home watching Harry on _Love Island_ instead. Would he have felt the simultaneous rise in his chest whenever Harry laughed, or the pit that came right after it when he remembered that Harry was no longer his to have? Was it better to have him here, to have Harry smile at him in person? Or was it worse, having to see other people flirt with him? 

If there was an option for a lose-lose situation, that might have been the best bet.

\---

Challenges didn’t usually come one day after another, and so the next day the producers gave them a break, letting the islanders fall into the same routine lull. 

It was all pretty much the same, except that the tightness in Louis’ chest, which had previously appeared whenever Harry was around, had disappeared. Now, he no longer felt tension when looking at Harry, or when he was in the same vicinity as him. 

So it was fine. Besides the constant press of wondering whether Harry was actually interested in anyone, everything was fine. 

“Did you know that I dated the girl in the Tesco commercial?” Jasper was saying from the chair across from Louis.

Beside Louis, Charlotte scoffed. “Yes, Jasper. You’ve mentioned it maybe three times. And why is that something to be proud of?”

“Because you’ve never even dated a celebrity before.”

“She’s not a celebrity!” Charlotte said, and their argument faded in Louis’ ears. By now, he had gotten used to Charlotte and Jasper squabbling, and had learned to tune them out where appropriate. Louis couldn’t imagine what it would have been like if they had initially coupled up together.

In the midst of all his personal turmoil, Louis had almost forgotten about his own side project. That was, until Zayn wandered out from the producers hut and Harry got a mischievous glint in his eye, considering. 

“Hey Zayn,” Harry called, and Zayn whipped his head up. 

“Uh, yeah?” Zayn replied, clearly confused. 

“Are you single?” Harry asked, and Zayn sputtered. As did Louis. 

From the gleeful look Harry was throwing Louis, it wasn’t too hard to guess what Harry was doing. Except subtlety and a heads up would have been appreciated. 

Flustered, Zayn scratched his neck uncomfortably. “Um.”

“You know that the crew isn’t part of the dating pool here, right?” Liz said from afar, jumping into the conversation. Beside her, Louis noticed that Lainey’s lips were pursed anxiously. 

Louis almost laughed. What a headline that would be — _Love Island Contestant Quits Show To Elope With Crew Member._

“Just because I like men doesn’t mean I’m hitting on Zayn,” Harry shouted back. “Except Zayn is an attractive lad.”

At this point, Zayn was growing even redder. It was a shame that this part wasn’t going to be aired, what with Zayn not being an islander and all. This would have _definitely_ been quality television. Or, at least better than footage of the islanders rubbing mayonnaise over one another. 

“I just think he would be a wonderful match for one of my friends,” Harry continued airily, as if he hadn’t gotten the attention of everyone in the villa by now. 

“Uh, thanks,” Zayn said, clearly not knowing what else to say. 

“So are you single?” Harry pressed, lowering his voice.

Evidently, Zayn wanted to get out of this embarrassing situation, but probably realized that Harry wasn’t going to let him go without an answer. Shifting his eyes around, Zayn paused before saying, “Yes.” 

Hm. Louis couldn’t help but note that Zayn’s words held a hint of uncertainty.

“Great,” Harry said, waving him off. “Thanks, Zayn.” 

Even though subtlety wasn’t Harry’s strong suit with regards to being a wingman, Louis couldn’t really fault him. At least it had worked. Still, Louis mouthed _what the fuck?_ at Harry.

 _He’s single,_ Harry mouthed back, giving him a double thumbs up. Louis cursed the fact that this was the method of communication they had had to resort to. 

Suddenly, he felt a dip in the sofa. “So you guys are friends now,” Eleanor said, draping an easy arm around him. 

“Um,” Louis replied. He looked back at Harry, who had now resorted to staring intensely at the pool. “Yeah,” he said, facing Eleanor. “We’re cool.” Before Eleanor could reply, he stood up. “I’m going to re-apply sunscreen. Do you want anything?”

Eleanor eyed him for a second before saying, “I’m good, Lou, thanks.”

Louis nodded and fled. Maybe he’d tell Eleanor one day. Just not now. 

\---

Niall was pretty good at avoiding conflicts by pretending that they didn’t exist. So good, that the producers had started to hunt him down.

“Niall,” Carla called. “You have to talk about the girls. You can’t keep avoiding it forever, you know.”

“Yeah,” Louis said, popping up beside Carla even though he wasn’t technically a part of the conversation. “Zayn is having an aneurysm.”

Niall sighed. “Okay.”

Carla huffed out a satisfied sound, before turning around and herding all the lads in the villa towards the firepit, though it was still morning. A few minutes later, Louis found himself stuck between Niall and Ethan, forced to have a “talking session” so that the cameras could capture how they felt about things. More specifically, about Niall’s drama. 

Carla stood off to the corner, watching them like a goddamn hawk.

“So Niall… tell us. What are you going to do about the girls?” asked Ethan around a smirk, swirling the grape juice around his glass. After years of holiday parties surrounded by stuffy lawyers, Louis knew a thing or two about wine, and it was clear that Ethan was trying to show off as he kept his glass in motion. Too bad it was grape juice.

 _Maybe he’ll impress Julia, though._ If Julia didn’t know where Australia was, she definitely wouldn’t know what wine swirling was supposed to look like, or what it was for.

Niall took a moment to reflect before he responded. 

“Honestly?” he said, sounding thoughtful, something that caught Louis off guard, especially with the recent flippant attitude Niall had displayed. “I dunno, boys. It’s a lot for me to take in. I’ve never been the drama type.”

“We noticed,” Ethan said dryly.

“Yeah,” Niall said, shrugging. “And I don’t know if I want drama, you know? Plus, I’ve never been in a serious relationship before, and it sounds like they both want that.” 

What a diplomatic way to put it, Louis thought. “Do you want a serious relationship?” he asked. 

Rolling a grape between his fingers, Niall looked thoughtful. “I’m open to it,” he said finally. “I mean, I am here, after all. I just need to figure out what I really want in a relationship. Don’t need my heart broken on live television,” he finished, motioning towards the cameras. 

There was a small silence, each boy absorbing the gravity of Niall’s words. Then, to Louis’ surprise, Harry spoke up.

“I think that’s a good call. But the thing is,” he said slowly, “sometimes you just need to go with your heart. Because even if the person breaks your heart,” he, paused, seeming to assess his words, “You might still find that it was worth it, you know?” 

Immediately, Louis whipped his head towards Harry, unable to fight the feeling of his heart being lodged in his throat.

Harry shot him a furtive glance, then quickly looked away the moment he saw Louis staring right back at him. 

Louis didn’t need to clarify that Harry was talking about him. The one look Harry had given him was all Louis needed to know. Louis knew he had hurt Harry, knew he had been hurting him long before Harry pulled the trigger on their relationship and finally ended it. But to hear Harry say the words opened a fresh wound that Louis had thought was closed.

But. _You might still find that it was worth it, you know?_

Even though Louis had caused him pain, was that what Harry thought of him? Even up until this day?

Even up until now?

“That’s deep, mate,” Mike replied, then finished his grape juice in one gulp. “I haven’t been in a long term relationship either, so I wouldn’t know. Have the rest of you lads?”

Distantly, Louis could hear Jasper saying something or other about his previous relationships, but honestly? Louis couldn’t care less at the moment. _Get your shit together_ , he thought to himself. 

“Lou?” Niall asked, voice low. He was studying Louis’ face, looking equally confused and concerned. Louis didn’t know if Niall was asking him for advice, or if he was checking up on him because he was worried.

“I’ve been in one serious relationship,” Louis said, trying not to choke on his words. Even he could hear how hoarse his voice was. _Here we go, Tommo. You’re baring it all on live television. Exactly what you didn’t want._

The rest of the boys, on the other hand, looked intrigued. Which, it figured. Louis had been incredibly adept at evading questions like these until now. And for good reason. Louis hadn’t been sure that he would be able to keep his composure if someone had really probed him on his past. 

“And… yeah,” he finished lamely, and he must have looked hesitant, because the boys still looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. _Don’t say any more._

Instead, he heard himself saying, “Heartbreak could be worth it if you really love the person.” And he knew that he would not look at Harry, absolutely _should not,_ but he couldn’t help it. He lifted his head, just enough to take a quick peek, only to find Harry looking right back at him, brows furrowed. There was something piercing in his gaze, something Louis couldn’t place.

“Huh. Well, any of them worth the heartbreak, Niall?” Ethan inquired, shifting everyone’s focus away from Louis. Louis took a moment to breathe, to collect himself again, enough so that hopefully the cameras wouldn’t dwell too much on him. Beside him, Niall shrugged.

“I’ll figure it out. Thanks for the input though boys,” Niall answered, shooting Louis a probing glance. Fortunately, his friend seemed to know that now was not the time to corner him into giving a more detailed explanation of his past. Especially with Harry still around. But he was sure it wouldn’t be long. 

“Alright everyone, lunch! Please head over to the kitchen,” called one the producers, clapping her hands. The cameraman tried but failed to stifle a yawn as he began packing up his equipment. 

Louis chanced one more glance towards Harry before rising from his seat. Harry was clearly deep in thought, eyes staring off into the fire like it could solve the world’s mysteries. 

Louis knew the feeling.

\---

_Louis only had to knock twice before Liam appeared. One look at Louis’ sullen face was all it took for Liam to register that things were not okay._

_Silently, Liam pulled the door open, a warm gesture, and Louis slumped past him and onto the couch._

_The front door closed, and the sounds of feet came pattering closer until a pair of arms wrapped around him. “Lou,” Liam said, quiet, and just like that, the first dam of tears came out._

_Liam allowed him to cry for a while, tucking Louis into his side as the tears came down silently. It struck Louis as something that a mother might do._

_It was hard to tell how much time had passed until Liam spoke up. “Do you want me to call Lottie,” Liam said. Louis shook his head._

_A pause, before Liam asked cautiously, “Do you want to talk about it?” It wasn’t until now that Louis realized Liam still didn’t know what was going on._

_Hell, of course Liam wouldn’t know. If Liam did know, it would have been in pieces — the look on Louis’ face after another delayed phone call, Harry’s Instagram posts of another event he had been at that night while Louis sat sullen on the couch. And maybe even more recently — the text messages from Harry that Louis never responded to, the calls he didn’t pick up in favour for walking away from the phone altogether. But he had never told Liam on his own. Because how could Louis voice it to Liam if he didn’t even know how to voice it to Harry?_

_At the thought, another floodgate threatened to burst open, and salty tears streamed down Louis’ face anew. All he could see was the confusion in Harry’s face throughout the past few weeks, the question marks whenever Louis didn’t reply to yet another text message. Harry’s pixelated face today when he had finally picked up after three rings. He had known what Harry was about to say even before he said it._

_“Louis,” Harry had said, eyes red. It was evident that he had been crying before the call. “We need to talk about what’s been going on.”_

_And Louis had expected it. It was bound to happen soon, anyway. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t been waiting for it. Still, he said, “okay,” voice so quiet that he wasn’t sure if Harry had even heard._

_“I feel like things haven’t been working out lately,” Harry had said, words shaky. “Do you feel that way, too?”_

_And deep within, Louis could already feel the choke around his throat, the tsunami of tears that he had been holding in for the past few months. “Yes,” he whispered._

_At Louis’ admission, Harry’s face had fallen. “Okay.”_

_There was no energy in Louis to reply to Liam. Thankfully, Liam seemed to get the hint, handing him another tissue. Belatedly, Louis realized that Liam had been handing him tissues for a while._

_So Liam let Louis cry. When Louis had exhausted all his tears for the night, Liam brought a duvet to the couch before slipping into his room quietly. It made Louis feel less alone, just for a little bit._

_Crying made Louis tired, and maybe that was a good thing. He fell asleep soon after, to the thought of a boy across the ocean who he still loved._

\---

Even long after the conversation, the words remained in Louis’ ears. _You might still find that it was worth it, you know?_

Exhaling a breath, Louis tried to keep calm at the memory of Harry’s shaky voice in his mind. Was it worth it to Harry? Even after the evident pain that Louis had inflicted upon him at the end of their relationship? To hurt Harry once, that was enough — a decision that had haunted him. He just hadn’t expected that choice to follow him here onto the island and say that it had all been worth it for him.

Louis couldn’t hurt him again. Especially not when Harry had come here for opportunities, career or love-wise. And even if that last option sent needles into Louis’ chest, he couldn’t screw it up for Harry. Even if Harry ended up wanting someone like Julia.

The best he could do was just keep it to himself until he was eliminated, so that he could go home and complain to Liam and maybe buy himself a cat to keep him company for the sad, sad, remainder of his life.

So the days went by as usual. Three new additions came into the villa, eliminations continued, and Mike was sent home — along with Julia, to Louis’ surprise. So it seemed as if the audiences back home weren’t too keen on them as islanders.

Louis tried to gauge Harry’s reaction, but Harry didn’t seem too upset. He gave Julia a long hug as she left the villa, although Louis suspected it was more out of pity than emotional attachment. 

With Lainey and Harry now both couple-less, it made sense when Harry picked Lainey for the next recoupling. Louis noticed a flicker of delight across Lainey’s face at Harry’s choice and tried to stomach his dread.

\---

One time at lunch, as Louis was grabbing his sandwich, Zayn strolled by, looking delighted.

“You’re in for a treat today,” he called as he passed Louis at the tables. 

That could only mean one thing — Louis was most definitely, certifiably, _not_ in for a treat. Zayn never looked that happy while he was working, unless he knew that the islanders were going to hate whatever task they had to do today.

“Okay, Zayn,” Louis said, shooting him an unimpressed glare before Zayn could stroll back into the crew workers’ tent like he hadn’t just said something incredibly ominous. “You gonna tell me?” 

Zayn turned around, smiling to himself. He moved towards one of the cameras, pretending to adjust the equipment as he looked like all was right with the world. It was deliberate; clearly he was just keeping things secret as a way to egg Louis on. Louis hated him sometimes. “You’ll see, you’ll see,” he replied, waving Louis off. “All I’m going to say is that you guys are going to do things in couples.” 

Louis inwardly groaned to himself. While Eleanor was a completely nice girl, they were two different people who were both a smidge too hard-headed and strong-willed. She and Louis might not necessarily work best together in competitive settings. 

“Islanders, please meet near the firepit in ten minutes!” called Carla from somewhere inside the house. Zayn shot Louis another smirk, more evil this time, snickering to himself, as Louis deliberately turned away and headed towards the pit. If he survived whatever was planned for today, he would conspire with Niall to make Zayn’s life as difficult as possible. 

Unlike some of the other challenges, the producers were tight lipped about what they were in for. The producers, apparently, had a plan. A plan to make them all look like fools on television.

Ten minutes later, Louis learned that they were about to participate in a team _roleplay_ challenge. No wonder Zayn had been so gleeful. This was probably his revenge for all the times Louis had called him out for applying too much hairspray in his hair.  
  
“Each boy will be tied up, and they will pick a female partner to save them from the ‘fire’,” announced Carla, miming quotation marks around the last word. The hypothetical fire, that was. That didn’t really exist. Or at least, Louis assumed it didn’t exist. On this show, he could never be too sure.

“Ladies, we have some clothes for you to try on, you’ll get to be firefighters for the challenge. Boys — you’ll just have to hope your partner is able to pass the obstacle course and save you. If she succeeds, you can both celebrate with a date. If not…” Carla trailed off and raised her brows, smirking to herself. “The lady will have to pick _another_ islander for her partner to kiss!” 

A few of the islanders’ jaws dropped. Carla and the other villa staff looked entirely too pleased with themselves, Zayn especially as he stood next to her, Louis could see him wiggling his brows at Niall, who looked as unenthused as Louis felt. 

Eleanor turned towards Louis, shrugging, before heading towards the building to put on her firefighter outfit. For a fake couple, they definitely weren’t as alarmed as some of the couples were. In the past few weeks, they had exchanged a few chaste kisses for the purpose of maintaining appearances while telling the other islanders they were ‘taking it slow.’ Most of them had seemed to buy it, with the exception of Niall, and of course, Harry. Niall, for one, looked suspicious every time Louis and Eleanor attempted anything even remotely romantic. To his credit, though, he still hadn’t asked Louis for any details about his relationship with her. 

In partnering up for the challenge, Carla gave them a wild card of choosing any islander of the opposite gender, even if they weren’t coupled up. Louis, to no one’s surprise, chose Eleanor, and Harry chose Lainey. They had seemed to be getting along well the past few days.

Niall, on the other hand, picked Liz, prompting a high-pitched cry of disbelief from Nora, and a gasp from half the islanders. If there was one thing that made Louis glad that he was on this show, it was that he could witness the comedic drama happen in front of his very own eyes. Although re-watching himself on television wasn’t something he entirely wanted to do, he made a mental note to rewatch this season. Just so he could hear the announcer’s sarcastic voice narrating Niall’s ‘troubles of love’.

The challenge involved Louis sitting on top of a small wooden tower, which the producers had explained was a “burning building.” Eleanor, his firewoman, would climb up and rescue him as quickly as she could, so all Louis had to do was wait to be saved. He was truly a damsel in distress. Was it too late to blame Liam again for getting him into this mess? 

Before he knew it, Louis’ arms were bound behind his back with a thick rope encircling his entire body. A separate rope had been tied tightly around his ankles by Zayn, who had seemed to enjoy his discomfort immensely. His skin would definitely be raw by the end of this tournament. 

Next to him, Louis could overhear Ethan commenting in a flirty voice that he was enjoying being tied up, followed by someone’s flustered giggles. Um, gross.

The tower didn’t seem tall from below, but with his ankles immobilized, Louis couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. He twisted slightly, testing his bonds. The producers definitely knew how to tie their knots. 

Luckily, (he hoped) Eleanor seemed like the kind of girl who was game for anything. And while he had initially acted pretty grouchy at having to do another couple’s challenge, he was grateful that he had Eleanor to save him, and not, for example, Nora (too aggressive) or Charlotte (nails too long to actually untie a knot). And then there was Liz adjusting the belt around her waist, petulantly complaining about tan lines. 

Eleanor, at least could probably get to him quickly enough that he wouldn’t lose any circulation. If he fell off the ladder because his feet were asleep, he could definitely sue the producers for dangerous conditions. Maybe. He’d have to go over the contract he’d signed again. 

Louis peeked over at Harry, who was one tower over. He couldn’t help but huff a laugh at how Harry looked, tied up with his knees to his chest, and his arms pulled tightly behind his back. He looked ridiculous, but even the absurdity of it all sent a whisper of heat through his stomach. _Okay._ Louis had other things to worry about at the moment. He didn’t want to think about that.

Just then, Harry looked over at him, giving Louis an exaggerated pout as their eyes met and tugged on the ropes to emphasize how little he could move. Louis felt his lips twist up into a small smile in return. 

His competitive streak still wanted Eleanor to win, though. Down below, the girls were putting on their ‘firefighting gear’ — heavy beige pants held up by thick black suspenders and a belt, along with boots that were several sizes too large. But because this was _Love Island,_ of course there was a twist. Instead of regular pants, the pants were better described as chaps, leaving each girl’s bikini bottoms on full display. 

Right before the challenge started, Louis turned his head once again towards Harry. “I hope you guys lose,” he said, doing his best impression of an evil villain. 

Harry laughed, loud and bright. “No chance,” he called back. Louis knew that if Harry could move, he would be flipping him the bird.

An extremely loud fire alarm sounded, and the girls scrambled towards each tower and up the ladders. 

Eleanor made it up relatively quickly, for which Louis was glad. His fingers were tingling uncomfortably, like a swarm of bees was buzzing next to his hands. She grasped the knot tied around Louis’ ankles, tugging on the rope. It wouldn’t budge. 

“C’mon, try that end,” Louis urged. The adrenaline of the competition was racing through his veins. He could hear similar sounds of frustration coming from the towers next to him, but a few shouts of excitement were among them. He didn’t want to lose. 

“I’m doing my best,” she muttered, staring furiously at the knots, as if her focus would unwind them. 

As soon as Eleanor finally managed to loosen his ankles and then his hands, Louis jumped up, making sure not to fall off the side of the tower as the blood rushed back into his feet. He glanced instinctively at Harry, noting with satisfaction that he was still tied up, looking slightly frustrated. He’d definitely be down much faster than him. 

In what felt like a few seconds, he’d forced his tingling legs to climb down the ladder after Eleanor, and was standing next to her on the ground, breathing slightly more quickly than he should. Second place. Not bad.

As they regained their breath, the rest of the islanders were panicking and frenzied, rushing to get down. Charlotte and her partner, a new islander named Chad, were shouting at each other, and to Louis’ equal dismay and amusement, Lainey was still eye level with Harry’s lap, trying to get the last knot undone to unbind his ankles. 

A second fire alarm rang deafeningly a minute later, signalling the end of the challenge. 

“That’s it” Caroline called out, “all firefighters must come down from their towers. We’ll send someone up to cut the ropes off for the couples who didn’t make it. Unfortunately, you’ve all burned down inside the buildings,” she said, addressing the losing teams, which turned out to be Harry and Lainey, as well as Ethan and Charlotte. 

Once the two teams had made it down from the tower, with Harry and Ethan both walking a bit stiffly, Caroline called them up to stand next to her. “As I mentioned,” she began, smiling, “losing teams must suffer a punishment. Girls, I’m sorry, but you weren’t able to save your partners, so you’ll have to watch them kiss someone else in the villa.” 

Louis smirked a little, enjoying the dismayed looks on Charlotte and Lainey’s faces. 

“So, Lainey, who does Harry have to kiss?” Caroline swept her arms out in emphasis, pointing to the line of couples who had won the challenge. 

Lainey looked Harry up and down, then allowed her gaze to sweep over the rest of the female islanders. A sly smile appeared as she glanced at Eleanor and Louis. 

Louis wondered if she’d choose someone easy, someone that wouldn’t be a threat. Now that Julia was gone, there wasn’t anyone who might worry her, but even Nora and Charlotte seemed like they’d appreciate the chance to kiss harry. He _was_ popular in the villa. 

“I think,” Lainey said, laughing a bit to herself, “that because they have _such_ a great bromance, Harry should kiss Louis.” 

Harry’s head snapped up, the same time Louis felt all the breath being knocked out of his body. 

“That wasn’t part of the rules,” Louis croaked, hoping that others would just see it as a playful complaint. Because the idea of him kissing Harry was preposterous. Right? The idea was ridiculous. 

But his own protest was drowned out by the girls hooting in encouragement and the boys’ laughter, surrounding Louis like a fortress he couldn’t escape. 

Louis tried to laugh as casually as he could. “Guys, very funny,” he said, trying to ignore the ringing in his head. “I’m not a girl, though.”

“Caroline said ‘any islander,’” Jasper yelled, obviously delighted at the dramatic turn of events. God. Fuck Jasper, the dumb asshole who was probably only placed on the island because he had the capacity of one brain cell, which was good entertainment value for the audience. Louis gritted his teeth while half of the islanders shifted, looking amused at Lainey’s decision.

Pasting a smile on his face, Louis turned to look at Harry, who was frozen, doing his best not to look uncomfortable. He glanced over towards the producers, who didn’t seem to object to this certain twist of events. Caroline herself looked a little uncertain, but then shrugged her shoulders when she caught Louis’ gaze. Of course they wouldn’t object, especially if they thought it would make good television.

He thought of Liam at home, who wouldn’t hear about this until tomorrow night, and would probably be sweating on Louis’ behalf if he knew what was going on. 

“Well,” Louis said, trying to stall as much as he could. Except no one seemed to want to object to an innocent, random kiss between two male islanders. “I don’t know if Harry would want to kiss me.”

“Of course he does!” Niall bellowed, and Louis’ eyes widened in panic at the sudden encouragement, from Niall of all people, his favourite person in the villa who was supposed to have his back. Except Niall couldn’t really have his back if he didn’t know the whole truth, could he?

“Look at how beautiful this face is,” Niall continued. Louis inwardly cursed whoever had given Niall more than his allotted two drinks a day. It was common knowledge that drunk Niall resulted in him encouraging bad ideas. But before Louis could react, Niall grabbed his face, planting a sloppy kiss on Louis’ mouth. “And also,” Niall continued, “it’s a punishment for Lainey, remember? It’s not about you.” 

Laughter erupted as Niall sat back down, winking at Louis, and Louis was grateful for how the tension seemed to ease. _Thank you, Niall,_ Louis thought. Eleanor punched Niall in the arm good-naturedly, and the mounting pressure that had started to suffocate Louis eased a bit. Hopefully this was enough entertainment for everyone to forget how they were trying to make Harry kiss him a second ago.

Louis’ optimism lasted all of a second until Jasper shouted, “Your turn, Harry!” and the panic set back in. The second round of roaring increased, and Harry turned to face Louis.

All tactics had been tried, and all tactics had failed. Just as Louis was about to signal with his eyes to Harry — _what are we going to do_ , Harry stepped forward. 

A smile that hadn’t been there previously had replaced the alarm on Harry’s face. “Alright,” he said, and before Louis could register anything, he felt two hands on his face.

Hands that were gentle but firm, just like they had been before. Cushioned lips that were ingrained in Louis’ mind, and Louis — Louis was going mad. _Holy fuck_ , Louis thought to himself. Harry’s lips were on his. His mind went blank, everything around him became a soft buzz. This feeling was all too familiar to him. 

But just as quickly, Harry pulled back, and Louis stared in shock as Harry retreated back to his seat, not making eye contact.

“Two kisses!” Nora proclaimed out of the blue, clapping along with everyone else. “Louis is quite the stud, isn’t he?”

 _Liam is definitely going to lose his shit over this,_ Louis thought as he sank into his seat, trying to mask his astonishment. 

Once again, Louis was going to blame everything on his best friend. This whole experience, the dumb challenges, the fact that he was probably going to get a chronic sunburn even though it was his fault he forgot to apply the sunscreen — this was all Liam’s fault, yes. The fact that he was laughing it off like everyone else, trying to catch Harry’s eye to see how his ex felt? Also Liam’s fault. 

But most of all, he was going to blame Liam for how delicate Harry’s lips felt, how they had slotted against Louis’ just as he had remembered. Even if it was for just one moment.

The ghost of Harry’s lips chased Louis to bed and fell asleep with him, soft and sweet in his memory.


	9. Chapter 9

**@isaballs: Louis and Eleanor who?? I’m voting for Louis and Harry bc they would make a hot couple let’s be real #larrystylinson #LoveIslandUK**

\---

After Harry’s stunt with the kiss, it was too easy to forget that there were other things going on in the villa. Niall’s decision to choose Liz for the challenge had upset Nora enough that Lainey invited her into her bed for the night so that Nora wouldn’t have to sleep next to Niall. It was hard to not like Lainey when she was clearly a good friend. 

Not that Louis actively disliked Lainey. Just. It would be easier if the girl who potentially liked Harry was an unlikeable person, right?

Niall, on the other hand, looked a little distraught at the chain of events he had caused. He looked slightly on edge whenever Nora and Liz were around, and the other islanders who had originally been uninterested in the drama now gossiped about it often. 

As for Harry, he had begun sleeping in one of the outdoor beds facing the pool so that Nora would have room to sleep on the indoor bed with Lainey. 

Louis sighed. Ever since their kiss, Harry had continued to avoid eye contact. Louis couldn’t be completely sure, but something in Harry’s body language had seemed to hold a hint of discomfort — guilt or shame, maybe. After all, how were you supposed to react when being pressured to kiss your ex-lover in front of a group of people? There was no way they could talk about last night, not in front of the cameras like this. And yet, what was he supposed to do? 

So when Louis arose the next morning, he made it his mission to smooth things out with Harry. A peace offering of sorts was in order. Even if Louis wasn’t exactly sure what that offer looked like yet. Maybe tea?

Three sugars, no milk. From Louis’ recent observations, that was still how Harry liked his cuppa, and that was how Louis armed himself when he left the kitchen for Harry’s daybed. 

There was a slight movement in the bed as Louis approached, indicating that Harry had just woken up. No one else in the villa was awake, though, which was good. That meant Harry couldn’t avoid Louis by engaging in a conversation with someone else.

Holding Harry’s cup of tea, Louis made his way towards the daybed, readying himself for Harry’s reaction and maybe an uncomfortable, stilted conversation. But when he finally got there, he almost choked. Because there was Harry, rubbing his bleary eyes, with nothing but a white duvet covering his body. _Shit_. 

One detail that Louis had conveniently forgotten was that Harry had always slept naked, a habit that he had abandoned once he began sharing a bed with Lainey. And apparently, Harry had liked sleeping naked enough that he had resumed doing so at the earliest possible moment. And fuck, Louis was not ready to face that particular habit so early in the morning. 

Harry was right here, in front of him — eyes shut, the duvet covering only part of his body so that his torso was exposed to the soft light of the morning. The weak sunlight made Harry look graceful and delicate, like he was part of a dream that had just begun to dissipate. Something within Louis wanted to pull the duvet over the rest of Harry’s body, protect him from the wandering eyes of national television.

And something else made him want to reach out and drag his finger along naked skin, trace the black ink that marked it, just to remember what it was like to touch, to indulge in the senses that had suddenly re-emerged after last night. 

“Hi,” Harry said, looking disgruntled as he wrestled out of his sleepy state, unaware of the thoughts that were bombarding Louis’ mind, familiar memories of Harry pliant and willing underneath him. Louis quickly tried to erase those thoughts from his mind, hoping that he hadn’t been blindingly transparent. 

Louis jerkily thrusted the cup in his hand towards Harry when he remembered that _right_ , _yes,_ he had made his way here for a reason. The small part of his working brain registered how the liquid sloshed slightly over the sides, almost spilling onto the duvet. “Hi.” 

Squinting, Harry peered into the sun. “What’s this?” he asked, voice rough from sleep. 

“Um,” Louis said intelligently. What was he holding again? Oh. Right. “Tea.”

Harry blinked a few times before he understood. “Oh,” he said, then looked up at Louis, finally meeting his eyes. “Thanks,” he said, with an appreciative smile. He sat up. The duvet pooled further down his waist.

“I’m just going to,” Louis started, trying to avoid looking below Harry’s face and how the fabric was threatening to slip lower. “I have to pee.” Louis was an eloquent man. Usually. 

“Okay,” Harry said, bringing the tea to his lips. The moment Harry shifted his eyes away from Louis, he fled. God. So much for trying to salvage their friendship. Louis couldn’t even salvage his own sanity.

By the time Louis had done some much-needed deep breathing and regained his composure, half of the islanders had risen. When Louis stepped outside again, the kitchen was buzzing, and Harry was already at the stove, like he had been every morning. Fortunately, he was now dressed, though his navy swim trunks didn’t cover much more than the duvet had. 

“Cheers,” Louis said, grabbing his daily plate of eggs, forcing his voice to sound even. He hoped that Harry hadn’t noticed how flustered he had been earlier, but when Harry looked at him, there was nothing on his face that acknowledged any awkwardness. Instead, there was only sincerity. 

“Thank you for the tea,” Harry said easily. So he wasn’t avoiding Louis anymore. Whatever reservations Harry had seemed to have last night appeared to have disappeared this morning.

Louis nodded, searching Harry’s eyes questioningly. _We’re good, right?_

And by how Harry gave him a solid nod, lips pulled up, Louis knew that his message had been received.

Relieved, Louis gave him a grateful smile before heading onto the lawn. It was just an awkward bump, that was all. They were still friends. 

But then again. The memory of Harry’s hands on him threatened to emerge from his thoughts as he sat down next to Ethan, fleeting but vivid. He swallowed a large gulp of tea. 

Right. Friends. 

\---

Chad and Charlotte had their first kiss that evening, which was a big deal after days of incessant flirting between them. 

“What do you think their ship name would be?” Eleanor asked after the excitement of the kiss had settled. They were both seated in their usual lounge chairs, watching Chad and Charlotte’s excessive PDA like a movie. The two islanders hadn’t stopped after the first kiss, not even a bit. Unlike everyone else in the villa, Eleanor couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from any of the drama, and her remarks often managed to draw Louis in, too.

Louis pondered the question for a bit. “Chard,” he finally declared, mentally praising himself for coming up with amazing couple names. 

Eleanor stared at him for a beat. “What? Like the vegetable?” She whacked his arm.

Peering closer, Louis tried to get a better look at them. “He’s really sticking his tongue down her throat, huh?”

“Do you think we should kiss like that?” Eleanor asked, tilting her sunglasses down and fluttering her eyelashes excessively. 

If it weren’t for the fact that they were supposed to be a straight couple, Louis would have pushed her into the pool. Instead, he batted his eyelashes right back at her sarcastically. “I’d love that.” 

It was a joke, and Eleanor knew it. All their kisses so far, when necessary, had been closed-mouthed and limited to only a few times a week. To Louis, it was like kissing a cat. Not that he had any experience kissing one. It was just to make a point.

“Why is Harry watching you?” Eleanor suddenly remarked, peering over Louis’ head.

What? Louis looked over to where Eleanor was facing, only to find Harry’s face fixed at the clouds. 

“Okay, well he _was_ looking this way,” Eleanor said, mildly exasperated. “He turned towards the sky as soon as I mentioned him looking at you.” 

“Maybe he was looking at something else,” Louis replied, hoping to divert the conversation. “Oh God. Charlotte just climbed on top of Chad.”

Eleanor quickly glanced over at the couple again, fascinated. Luckily, Chard was still interesting enough to distract Eleanor. 

“Okay, now this is something that we don’t need to see,” she said, rising to turn her lawn chair around. 

Louis squinted, studying the other islanders. “Jasper’s still looking,” he noted, unsurprised. 

“Yeah, well. Jasper is a pervert,” Eleanor said. “And you will be too, if you don’t turn your chair around.”

“You’re so charming,” Louis cooed, blowing her a kiss. Even though Eleanor was wearing sunnies, he could sense her shooting daggers from her eyes in mock annoyance. 

“Worst partner, ever,” she said with a huff, although her lips were curled up into a small smile. Louis turned his lounge chair around, so that he could watch Niall stumble through a conversation with Nora. _Love Island_ drama wasn’t bad, not at all, not when he could watch everything from the sidelines. 

–––

Okay, so maybe the friends thing was harder than Louis had anticipated. 

Not the friendship part. The friendship part was fine, maybe even better than Louis had expected. What had started out as uncertain tension had transitioned into a comfortable camaraderie — they were able to joke together, Louis had begun to roast Harry whenever he tripped over his two left feet, and Harry was now regularly bringing Louis tea every morning, unprompted. Louis tried not to dwell on that last part too much. After all, it was just nice to know that there was another person in the villa who understood the importance of a bit of caffeine in the morning. 

But it was the _friends_ part that was hard. As in, Louis was finding it very difficult to keep the platonic nature of their friendship Particularly when Harry had his shirt off. Which was all the time. 

It had been manageable before, when Louis wasn’t sure where they stood and it had been easier to avert his eyes, to pretend that Harry didn’t exist. But now? After Harry had kissed Louis? After Louis had almost busted a lung trying to recover his breath from even thinking about Harry naked in bed? 

_You haven’t wanked in a month,_ Louis tried to reason with himself. Of course he found Harry attractive, but this whole thing was likely a manifestation of his inability to get off. Not from Harry. And the memories that threatened to unveil themselves — summers of bare, golden skin, moving together in languid heat? That was also all due to the fact that he wasn’t able to get off. Nothing more, nothing less.

In any case, there was no strategy that Louis could use to avoid this particular situation. Exposure therapy, maybe? Ha. He was pretty sure that staring at Harry’s half-naked body would backfire on him immediately, especially once his incapacitated state was caught on camera for everyone to see.

His best course of action was to avoid Harry again, but the result was everyone catching on after the audience pointed it out. And they couldn’t very well have another repeated instance of this, could they? 

He could picture the tweets, crystal clear in his mind. _Why is Louis avoiding Harry again? Do they fight off-screen? I swear they’re feuding over Eleanor._

No. Louis had to face the music. He was just going to stare at Harry’s face and pretend he was wearing a shirt. This was going to be fine. He wasn’t a twelve-year old hitting puberty for the first time, for crying out loud. He was a _man_. A 27-year-old _man_. 

On the bright side, today had been successful so far. After Harry had brought Louis his tea, Louis had even been able to make casual morning conversation, and talk about the weather. And while Harry had been lifting weights, Louis didn’t even look at him, not once. Of course, it had taken a strategic adjustment of his chair so that he wasn’t facing the corner where the lawn gym was situated. But it was for a good reason.

So, all in all, he was doing a good job. He’d even managed to engage Harry in another conversation about Zayn that same evening. 

See, the thing was that Louis had noticed Zayn becoming more and more absorbed in his phone. It was particularly suspicious because Zayn wasn’t able to take his eyes off the screen, the small grin on his face now extremely familiar to Louis as his fingers flew on the keypad. That wasn’t the look of someone who was happily single. Which brought Louis to a conclusion — there was a high possibility that Zayn was seeing someone.

“Hi,” Louis heard, and turned to see Harry, spooning broccoli onto his plate as he was serving himself food in the dinner tent. He hadn’t really spoken to Harry since breakfast. 

“Hi,” Louis said, relieved that Harry currently had a shirt on. He jutted his chin over to Zayn. “Zayn’s texting again.” 

Looking over, Harry studied Zayn for a bit. “Maybe he’s texting his sister. Or his best friend.”

“You think?” Louis glanced at Zayn, who was now biting his lip to hide a smile. Louis wasn’t sure about other people, but that generally wasn’t what he looked like when he texted Liam. Or, God forbid, his _sisters_.

“I can find out,” Harry said, reaching over to pick up a loaded potato, looking like a man with a renewed sense of purpose.

“By yelling across the lawn again?” Louis said, arching an eyebrow doubtfully. 

“Hey.” Harry pointed his fork at Louis. “It worked.”

“You could’ve busted our mission. _I’ll_ go find out,” Louis said, elbowing Harry in the ribs. As he pulled away, he realized that it was the first time they had touched since the kiss. He drew back further, making sure there was space between them.

Harry didn’t seem to notice any of Louis’ hesitation. “Okay,” he said, lowering his voice. “Report back once the mission has been completed.” He turned around, a ghost of a smile around his face, and left.

Jasper appeared at Louis’ elbow a minute later. “Glad you guys are friends now,” he said, as they both watched Harry walk towards the dining table. “It kind of sucked that we didn’t have all the lads together! Now that it’s all good, we can finally all be real bros. Bros before hoes,” Jasper finished, sounding excited.

Louis blinked. He could agree with the sentiment, but he was pretty sure Jasper was only saying this because none of the girls liked him.

But why was it that everyone was paying attention to Harry and Louis’ interactions, anyway? Didn’t they have more important things to pay attention to? Like the connections between the coupled islanders in this villa?

In response, Louis gave Jasper a half-smile, refusing to acknowledge his comment further. Better not add more fuel to the fire. If he acted like it was just a casual interaction with Harry, then that’s all the others would see it as.

As he sat down with his plate of food, Harry smiled at him.

Casual interactions, indeed. 

\---

The day was exceedingly hot, even for Majorca standards. The scorching sun hung over all of them like a death threat, forcing half of the islanders to hop into the pool. And while chilling in the water sounded like a smart idea, Louis declined the invitation. Instead, he had opted to sit with Niall, who had settled in the shade with his guitar. 

Louis thought that he was going to sit back and enjoy some tunes, but he soon found himself in a heated debate with the Irishman over whether pancakes were better than waffles. Apparently, this was a topic that Niall was very passionate about. And given how Niall was passionate about every food-related topic, Louis was not surprised.

“Pancakes are like flat bread. Waffles have a lot of crevices to hold the toppings,” Niall stated with emphasis, waving his hands in the air in an attempt to make his points more valid. Was Niall talking about food, or was he trying to sell a cabinet with optimal storage space? The world might never find out.

“It doesn’t make a difference,” Louis said, exasperated. “The pancake still holds the toppings.”

“But not enough toppings,” Niall argued. Suddenly, another voice joined them. Apparently, their argument had attracted attention.

“Do you really think that the viewers want to hear you guys debating about breakfast food?” Charlotte inquired, trudging up to them wetly with a towel around her shoulders. “That being said, waffles are better.” She sat down.

Delighted, Niall gave Charlotte a high-five. 

At the sound, Nora turned around, narrowing her eyes. “What’s this about waffles?” she said, sidling up to Niall whilst glaring at Charlotte. Nora, Louis confirmed, was pretty much threatened by any female who interacted with Niall. 

Glancing around nervously, Niall shuffled slightly away. “Nora, you’re still wet,” Niall told her, although it probably wasn’t the wet part that made Niall uncomfortable. Louis had to stop himself from laughing outright.

Nora batted her lashes. “Do you like that?” she asked, and Louis groaned inwardly. It had been clear from the very beginning that Nora was a forward person. And while it was certainly admirable, it wasn’t always welcome. 

Louis wasn’t the only one who was bothered, apparently. “Oh my god,” Charlotte complained. “This is _not_ the place, Nora,” she said, to which Nora smiled primly. 

“Pancakes!” Jasper shouted from the pool, apparently having heard the whole conversation, evoking a slight eye roll from Niall, who, along with Charlotte, didn’t hide his disdain for Jasper. “Pancakes are superior.” 

“What’s the yelling all about?” Harry’s low voice came from behind. As soon as Louis turned to reply, he realized he had made a mistake.

Harry, along with the other islanders, had been in the pool. And while it was perfectly normal, and perfectly okay, Louis had conveniently forgotten that Harry happened to have an effect on him that the other islanders didn’t. And a Harry who was dripping wet, hair slick and pushed to the side, was a surefire way to make Louis’ brain go static. 

It was very hard to ignore how the water droplets on Harry’s chest gleamed in the sunlight, like little pearls that made Louis want to do things that were not okay for television. Even if it was _Love Island_. Nonetheless, Louis persevered, fish mouthing for only a second before blurting, “Pancakes. I miss pancakes.” 

Smooth. That had not been the point of the debate. Fortunately, no one seemed to notice.

“Louis misses pancakes,” Niall repeated very matter-of-factly. “But waffles are better, right, Harry?”

Harry pursed his lips in thought, contemplating. He looked back and forth between Louis and Niall, and based on his expression, Louis already knew that he agreed with Niall about the waffles. 

“I don’t know,” Harry said, his statement a little too carefully-worded. His eyes were wide, like he was trying to paint a picture of pure innocence. 

Even Niall had noticed. His eyes narrowed. “You’re lying,” he deduced, before turning to the closest person nearby, who happened to be Chad. “Help us settle the score. Pancakes or waffles?”

“Waffles,” Chad said, walking up to Charlotte and giving her a kiss on the cheek, causing her to preen. “And I’m not just saying that for Charlotte.”

“Waffle gang,” Niall shouted ferociously. He stood up to fist pump in victory, before picking up his guitar and singing the two words over and over. Soon, Chad began to join him, and the two men launched into an off-tune medley. How did these straight men manage to get women, again? Louis did not know.

He chanced a glance at Harry, who was laughing, a joyous smile on his face.

It was almost as bright as the sun. 

\---

Louis woke up late the next morning, finding the communal bedroom vacated. Out of all the islanders, he wasn’t usually one who tried to sleep in — that would have been Jasper. But the heat from the previous day had really tired him out, along with a pushup challenge that had been introduced in the late afternoon. 

As he headed down to the kitchen, he made a mental note to apologize to Eleanor about the loud snoring that she was probably a victim of. Poor Eleanor. 

He had only taken a few steps in the kitchen when something caught his attention. He froze, mid-eye rub.

“Harry.” Niall was pointing his fork at Harry, back turned toward Louis. “Did you not hear the verdict yesterday?” 

“What was the verdict?” Harry said, words directed to the stove in front of him. None of them had noticed Louis yet, who could not help but stare at the pancakes on the counter. 

Pancakes. On the counter.

“I’m going to let you off this time, Styles,” Niall said, even though the words held no threat. “Only because we’ve been eating eggs every day, and these are damn good.”

Suddenly, Louis remembered to move. At the sound of his feet on the tiled floor, Harry and Niall looked up.

“Hey,” Niall greeted him, chewing noisily. “Harry made pancakes. Guess you won today.” He slid over a plate of stacked pancakes. 

The pancakes still looked fresh, if the melted butter was of any indication. “Thanks,” Louis said to Harry, mouth feeling dry. 

If Louis hadn’t been looking at him, he wouldn’t have been able to notice the slight redness that crept into Harry’s cheeks. “You’re welcome.” Harry’s mouth stretched into a smile, something that reminded Louis of a bashful child being told that their macaroni art was impressive.

But this was Harry, not a five-year old; and this was his cooking, cooking skills that were honed and appreciated by professional chefs around the globe. As Louis sat down, he became aware that it had been too long since Harry had last made him the same breakfast. Too late, he realized that he should have probably sat somewhere else so that he wouldn’t have to eat them in front of Harry.

But here he was, bringing a piece to his mouth as if it was his first time tasting Harry’s pancakes, the sugar from the syrup immediately filling his taste buds. He didn’t even know he had missed them until he took a bite, the fluffy interior of the pancakes sending a shot of remembered happiness through his mind. They were _divine_ , as they always had been. It wasn’t like taste buds had _thoughts_ , but Louis swore they were probably thinking, _Where have these pancakes been?_ _We’ve been waiting!_

He very well couldn’t sit through the whole plate without not commenting on them. “They’re good,” he told Harry, suddenly feeling a little hesitant. For some reason, Louis felt the need to tell Harry, because it was important that he knew. Especially because those pancakes had been made for Louis. 

Or were they really for him?

“Really?” Harry asked, looking up at Louis. His eyes were bright, eager. Just like they always had been whenever he made something for Louis. _God._

“Yeah,” Louis said, something deep swirling in his stomach, a feeling that resembled too close to intimacy. 

They were friends. That was it. But they were friends who had once been lovers, lovers with habits, and… well. That was a boundary that Louis had to remember not to cross. While a part of him felt the tug of familiarity at once again doing the things they had always done back then, that had been in the past. And whatever he felt now, was probably, just. Muscle memory. Mixed with a bit of nostalgia. 

As Louis took another bite, he thought back to how he had once believed that the hardest thing about being on _Love Island_ would be Liam handling his social media. 

He had been wrong. The hardest thing on _Love Island_ wasn’t sitting miles away while his best friend made inappropriate dick jokes as his Instagram captions. It wasn’t even having to pretend that he cared about what girls looked like in bikinis. 

It was Harry Styles, peeking over at Louis as he forked a pancake into his mouth, and gauging his reaction. It was having to pretend like his heart wasn’t beating a million miles a minute as he had remembered his throwaway _I miss pancakes_ comment yesterday. 

It was having to quench the swelling of his heart, which felt simultaneously like hope and the breaking of a thousand pieces. 

\---

After over a month in the villa, Louis had grown to enjoy the one-on-one interviews. Since he was already happily coupled up with Eleanor, he didn’t need to worry about finding his one true love. So he had directed his energy towards what he did best — sarcastic commentary. He’d made it easily through another recoupling, where almost everyone had remained with their current partners, except for Niall, who had chosen Liz, meaning that Nora was stuck with Jasper. This gave Louis plenty of content. 

Towards the end of his interview, Carla said, “Um, do you mind commenting on Chad and Charlotte? Don’t hold back.”

So Louis was more than happy to provide his opinions on how Chard was the best ship name they were going to get, paired with a good smattering of legume jokes that he was sure would get the couple trending on Twitter. 

As he stepped out of the hut, he spied Zayn, standing close by with his face in his phone. Hm.

Louis inched closer to Zayn, who didn’t seem to notice Louis’ presence until he was right in front of him. Maybe he could take a peek at his screen, see who he was texting. See if he was using any heart emojis. Zayn’s soft, silent exterior made him the perfect candidate for a guy who probably secretly used excessive emojis of the heart and affection variety. And if this was true, he would be the perfect match to Liam’s tendency of using multiple, unnecessary emojis in his texts, as well. Dream team.

“Oh. Hey, Louis,” Zayn said, locking his phone away. _Damn it. Goodbye, heart emojis._

Louis nodded in greeting, hoping he was giving off a _just wanted to say hi_ vibe, instead of a _who are you texting let me see_ vibe. “Hey,” he said, and realized that he had come up to Zayn without a plan. Well. He wasn’t a quick-thinking law student for nothing. “So Niall hasn’t chosen Nora or Liz yet. Are your brain cells still intact?”

As expected, Zayn groaned at the mention of them, and Louis high-fived himself mentally. Nora or Liz was a definite sore spot.

“Niall’s a great lad, but he really deserves better than those two,” Zayn said, looking genuinely concerned. “In my opinion, he should pick neither.”

“Yeah?” Louis said, chuckling. Was it too early to go in for the kill? He didn’t have much time to linger around. He was just going to have to go for it. “Are you speaking from experience?”

Zayn shifted his weight, considering. “Not really,” he said. “I haven’t dated a lot of people.”

Zayn? Gorgeous Zayn? Hadn’t dated a lot of people? This was a surprise. Louis didn’t have to fake anything when he widened his eyes. “What?” 

Shrugging, Zayn rubbed his toe in the dirt self-consciously. “I’m just not really good at talking to people, you know? I’m awkward.”

Poor Zayn. Poor, poor Zayn, who was a solid ten, yet had the confidence of someone who was a zero. He deserved better than this. And although Louis wanted to reach out and grab his shoulders, shake him a bit, and yell, _you’re an absolute catch, my friend,_ he had a mission to complete. God, he was really a _great_ friend to Liam, honestly.

“So you’re not talking to anyone at all?” Louis prodded. Okay, maybe that hadn’t been the most subtle approach, but he didn’t have time, okay?

And Zayn hadn’t seemed to notice, a blush appearing on his face almost instantly after Louis had said those words. Oh. _Oh._ That blush told Louis everything that he needed to know. 

Which, shit. 

“I kind of am,” Zayn said, and Louis’ hopes sank. 

“Oh,” Louis replied, hoping the disappointment didn’t show on his face. That could be interpreted weirdly. He wasn’t the one going after Zayn, after all.

But Zayn didn’t seem to notice, as he continued to look away from Louis, the blush becoming a little more apparent than it had been before. He looked as though he was about to say more when his phone buzzed, and a dreamy look passed over Zayn’s face as he glanced at his phone. The text was from someone named _L._ Okay. Cryptic. Louis took this second of opportunity to peer closer, and saw the text only contained three emojis of the monkey covering its mouth. 

So Louis wasn’t wrong about Zayn being a sappy emoji person. And not only that, it seemed like his texting partner was one, too. 

_Sorry Liam,_ Louis thought as he walked away. Maybe Liam could find another handsome assistant producer. Maybe from _Too Hot to Handle?_ Louis mused to himself, as he approached the rest of the islanders. Whatever. He’d have to pitch the idea to Liam much later, when he was off the villa and back to his normal life.

\---

When Thursday came, Louis realized that it had already been five weeks since he had arrived in the villa. Five weeks, and yet it had felt like five months. How was that even possible?

“When do you think Casa Amor is going to start?” Jasper wondered aloud. Beside him, Charlotte let out a groan in response. 

It was a valid question. With Week Six fast approaching, it was inevitable that the nerve-wracking Casa Amor would soon begin. The thought was probably looming in everyone’s minds, although no one had voiced it aloud until now. For half the islanders, it was probably better to ignore the possibility that their partner could find someone new and ditch them altogether. After all, a whole week with a new set of islanders of the opposite gender? A likely probability. 

It wouldn’t be surprising if half of the islanders left their partner for a new one during Casa Amor. Jasper, for one. His attempts to woo Nora had failed, and Louis didn’t doubt that he was looking forward to a house of new women to impress.

On the other hand, Charlotte’s concern was understandable, since she had been getting along with Chad. But they had all only known Chad for a short while, and even though Charlotte seemed to like him a lot, Louis hoped she didn’t like him _too_ much. Especially if Chad came out of Casa Amor with a new girl on his arm, leaving her to be sent home. The only way she would avoid elimination was if she had found someone new in Casa Amor, too.

Shading his eyes from the sun, Niall turned his head lazily toward Louis. “Are you worried about Eleanor in Casa Amor?” 

Louis tried not to snort. Based on how Eleanor wasn’t even _actually_ single, there was no way she was going to pick a random man over him. Especially if they were both planning to stay on the island for as long as possible.

Still, Louis tried to appear casual. “Don’t think so. We’ve been getting along really well.” _Just not in the romantic way. Maybe more like teenage siblings._

“Do you think Harry’s going to pick someone else?” Lainey suddenly piped up, looking genuinely concerned. It took all of Louis’ willpower to not roll his eyes upward. 

“How has that been going, Lainey?” Charlotte asked. _Oh, great,_ Louis thought. At this point, he was prepared for Lainey to just start gushing about Harry as she had done so often, and hear about how he was perfect for her, or how his brown curls were mesmerizing. 

Shifting into her seat, Lainey let out a sigh. “Honestly? I don’t know. It’s just… He’s really nice, and great to talk to. But when we’re together, I feel like he’s not really there half the time, you know?”

Louis perked his head up. _That_ was surprising, especially coming from Lainey. And it also sounded so strange, to hear someone describe Harry, of all people, as someone who wasn’t present with them. If there was anything Louis had known about Harry on day one, it was that Harry was the type of person who had always been focused in conversation, and always listened to what the other person was saying. 

“It just feels hard to make a real connection when he’s not even there,” Lainey continued, sounding dismayed. 

“You know, that sounds like song lyrics,” Niall said. He waved a hand in the air. “Can someone fetch me my guitar?” he yelled, in which Ethan responded by shouting from the kitchen, “We’re not your servants!”

Even long after the conversation was over, Lainey’s comment lingered in Louis’ mind. It was clear that Lainey was there to find love, but whether Harry’s intentions were the same, it was unclear. Was Harry just there for the bakery? Or did he want to fall in love, too, and Lainey just wasn’t it for him?

The thoughts bombarded Louis even as he climbed into bed next to Eleanor, who raised her eyebrows at him wordlessly. Clearly, his expression was enough to reveal that something was on his mind. 

“Tired,” Louis said before Eleanor could ask, and she rolled her eyes in the dark, knowing full well he was lying. It was enough for Louis to see it, even though the cameras wouldn’t be able to. 

Glancing at Harry’s blanketed shape, Louis let out a sigh. It wasn’t like it was he had any right to know what Harry was really thinking. 

But it would make a difference. For Louis, at least. To know whether each time Harry looked at someone, was it the same way he used to look at Louis? Did Harry feel the same things towards them that Louis felt towards him?

Feel _towards him,_ Louis couldn’t help but think. _You still feel the same way._

The truth hurt. But at least it was a truth that Louis didn’t have to face right now, if he didn’t want to. And with that, he shut his eyes and tried to drift off to sleep. 

\---

They were getting another day off. It was their second one since they had first stepped into the villa, and the first one for the new islanders. Thank God for these days. Louis didn’t know what he would do without them.

As usual, their destination was a secret, which, Louis didn’t know why the producers were so set on being mysterious. Was it really necessary when the cameras were off?

“You know you’re supposed to take off your shirt when we’re rolling, right?” Eleanor said as Louis pulled his shirt over his head. They were all piled in the front of the villa, waiting for instructions. 

Tossing his shirt to her, Louis uncapped a tube of sunscreen. “I woke up late and didn’t get to apply sunscreen yet. I don’t even know how you managed to sleep last night,” he added, raising a brow. “You know, with what was going on in the bed _next to us.”_

Chad and Charlotte, apparently, had advanced to the next stage of their relationship. Louis just wished that the next stage of their relationship didn’t have to be right next to his bed, and filled with quiet moaning beneath the sheets. 

At the memory, Eleanor shuddered. At least Louis wasn’t the only one who was scarred. “Some people are just willing to risk it all, even on television, I guess.”

She was right. They were five weeks in, after all. Five weeks surrounded by half-naked people all day, people were bound to snap at some point. And in this case, it had just so happened to be Chad and Charlotte.

“Who do you think’s gonna be next?” Louis wondered. “Do you think that Nora’s gonna be so desperate that she’s going to try to have sex with Jasper?”

A second shudder rippled through Eleanor. “God, I hope not. I would sleep outside for the rest of the time here.”

Louis thought about it. “You’re right. I take it back.” he declared, tossing the sunscreen aside now that he was done with it. Charlotte and Chad emerged from the bedrooms right that moment, looking immensely pleased with themselves. Louis couldn’t help the sour expression that took over his face, because _ugh_. 

Eleanor paused. Then, “He’s doing it again.”

“Who?” Louis asked as he looked around.

“Harry, behind you,” Eleanor hissed. “He’s doing the creepy frog stare again.”

Louis blinked at her. “Did you call him a creepy frog?” 

“He looks like a frog,” Eleanor stated. “You know, nostrils flared, eyes slightly squinted.” She tried to demonstrate with her own face. She looked less like a creepy frog and more like a demented gecko, but Louis got the point. “And he had a creepy look on. It was creepy.”

“You said that already.”

Crossing her arms, Eleanor gave him a pointed glare. “Okay, I’m pretty sure it’s you he keeps staring at. Are you sure you guys are fine?”

“We’re fine. He’s probably looking at Lainey.”

“Lainey is all the way on the other side of the parking lot,” Eleanor pointed out. 

“I’m glad your eyes work, Eleanor,” Louis said. “Try to find another talent, though.”

Eleanor threw her hat at him in response. Just as Louis tried to retaliate by taking off his shoe, Carla walked out, hands spread wide like she was about to deliver good news.

And good news, it was. “You’re all going for a spa day,” she announced, to the reply of cheering. “Boys and girls separately,” she added, and Chad booed.

“See you later,” Eleanor chirped before heading off to the girls’ van, and Louis saluted her away. Meanwhile, Charlotte was planting a kiss on Chad. Clearly, there were two kinds of couples.

Louis noticed Lainey trying to have her own kind of romantic farewell with Harry, who seemed slightly disengaged. _It just feels hard to have a real connection when he’s not really there._

Instead of being nosy and lingering, Louis hauled himself into the van, taking a seat next to Ethan. 

“Spa day!” Ethan roared when the car started, throwing a fist pump in the air. 

“Spa day!” the boys yelled back. 

Admittedly, Louis had never been to a spa. But judging by the looks of wonder the other lads sported as they looked around the facility, it was evident that the majority hadn’t. 

Except for Harry. He immediately seemed like he knew where the change rooms were, despite the fact that none of them had been to this particular spa before. Louis guessed he had probably been to his fair share in New York. 

Lost like a herd of sheep, they all followed Harry, entering a rather spacious change room with some flowery aroma in the air. It was perhaps the cleanest establishment Louis had ever been in. 

Upon opening his bag, Louis groaned. The swim trunks he had packed in a hurry were, in fact, his smallest pair. 

When he pulled them on, Louis was slightly dismayed, but not surprised, to find that they were tight around the bum, which also pulled them tight around the fronts of his thighs. This was the only pair he hadn’t worn yet, and for good reason. He was glad that at least the cameras weren’t rolling. He didn’t want the whole of the UK tweeting about his arse. 

Louis stepped out of the changing stall and quickly averted his eyes. Because if Louis thought his shorts were small, they were nothing compared to Harry’s — bright and yellow and hitting way above mid thigh. The only difference was that Louis was sure that Harry actually wanted to wear these. 

This was worse than having to see Harry come out of the pool, and Louis had barely kept it together then. This time, Louis was struck with the dawning realization that he would have to see Wet Harry _again._ In tiny yellow shorts, no less. 

Thank God he didn’t have to face that yet, though. He quickly stuck himself to Niall’s side, who informed him that Louis had to join him in booking a massage appointment, whether he liked it or not. Louis was grateful for Niall’s aggressive suggestion. This gave him an excuse to not see Harry. In tiny, _truly tiny,_ shorts.

A few moments later, Louis was lying face down on a massage bench, living his best life. Massages were clearly heaven sent; he was pretty sure he dozed off a few times, and based on the snoring noises next to him, Niall had definitely fallen asleep.

Unfortunately, the massage wasn’t enough to calm his nerves. Because once he stepped out of the room, there was Harry, in the hot tub, talking to Ethan. Sweaty, wet, glorious. Basically everything he had been trying to avoid in the past week. He was pretty sure he felt the hairs on his arms stand up, for crying out loud, though the spa wasn’t even cold.

It was like day one of Harry all over again, where Louis just wanted to avoid tension — except this time, it was a different kind of tension. The one that made his pants feel tight, which was a shame given that his trunks were already disturbingly small on him. Fuck. He would just have to keep his mind on something else, _anything_ else, for the rest of his time here. 

Just as Louis was about to quietly dip into the sauna — no confrontation, no problem — Ethan waved Louis over enthusiastically. Damn it. In that moment, Louis wished more than ever that Ethan had been an arse who didn’t invite his friends to the hot tub. 

Unfortunately for him, Ethan was as nice as lads came. 

Louis forced a smile and padded over, slipping in next to them. He tried to avert his eyes from Harry, whose skin was glistening from the heat, golden and warm. This was going to be fine, right? At least there were other people here. 

The low buzz of conversation drifted in and out of Louis’ ears as he let the hot water wash over him, closing his eyes and just generally trying to avoid thinking about anything Harry-related. Louis didn’t really know what the others were talking about; as soon as he had sat down, he had become aware of Harry’s eyes on him, unrelenting and making Louis feel simultaneously aroused and nervous. A new layer of sweat pricked Louis’ neck, and it wasn’t because of the steam. He opened his eyes, trying to look anywhere but at Harry, faking attentiveness towards whatever Ethan was saying. 

Even from across the hot tub, Harry’s gaze felt heavy, unwavering. All of Louis’ senses felt like they were on alert, on overdrive. He could feel his body overheat, the hint of discomfort in his groin that made him sweat. Fuck, he couldn’t _not_ look back, though. He just… had to make sure. Make sure that he wasn’t imagining this entire fucking situation. Gulping, Louis shifted his eyes ever so slightly in return. 

The intensity in Harry’s eyes confirmed the weight that Louis had been feeling on him for the past minute. They held each other’s eyes, air pulsing with friction for just a second, before Harry pulled his gaze away. 

_I’m pretty sure it’s you he keeps staring at,_ Eleanor echoed in his head. 

_Stay out of this, Eleanor,_ Louis chanted back to her, head swimming, trying to frantically decipher what had just happened. 

“What do you think, Harry?” a new islander said, and suddenly, Louis remembered that there were other people there, and that they were supposed to be well engaged into conversation. A conversation that Louis hadn’t even bothered to actually listen in on. 

“I think that strawberries are only good in the summer,” Harry replied, draping an arm at the edge of the tub. Louis didn’t even know that Harry had been paying attention to whatever they were chatting about. 

Ethan gave him a curious look. “Okay. But we were talking about raspberries.”

“Those are good too,” Harry said smoothly, a nonchalant statement that immediately undermined the fact that he hadn’t been paying attention. 

A door opened from across the room, attracting the attention of everyone in the hot tub. Except for Harry, whose eyes continued tracking the fervent bubbles in the water.

“I think it’s our turn for the massages,” Ethan noted, hopping out. _Don’t go,_ Louis’ thoughts screamed. Ethan and the other lads left the room shortly, leaving Louis and Harry to enjoy the churning water alone.

Was it just Louis overthinking it, or did it feel awkward? The jets of the hot tub continued to gurgle, the noise helpfully eliminating parts of the pregnant pause that lingered between them. 

Eventually, Louis cleared his throat and spoke. 

“So I talked to Zayn,” he piped up, ignoring the way Harry’s wet curls clung to his face, making him look like he had just finished an energetic session in bed. _Fuck,_ Louis was so screwed. 

“Oh?” Harry’s eyes were still fixed on the water, but his tone conveyed enough curiosity for Louis to continue.

“He told me he’s been talking to someone,” Louis said, cupping a handful of bubbles in his palms. “I guess it’s a bust for Liam.”

Harry finally looked up again, frowning. “That sucks. Maybe Liam can go back to Ryan.”

At the thought of Liam’s annoying, angsty ex-boyfriend, Louis made a face. “Maybe he could, but that means that I would have to go back to that coffee shop. No thanks.”

“Free pastries, though,” Harry supplied, the edge of his lips quirking up. “You always liked them.”

“I did,” Louis said, surprised at how Harry had remembered this fact. “I did like them, a lot.”

Harry’s smile came through easier this time, albeit his head was still down. Another pause came before Harry finally looked up, hesitation at his lips. 

“You’re not really with Eleanor, right?” 

That had been the last thing Louis expected to come out of his mouth. Looking up, surprised, Louis blinked a few times before saying, “No. No, I’m not.”

Lips pursed, Harry nodded. He trailed his finger across the tiling of the floor. “Yeah, I mean… I wasn’t sure.”

Something in Louis wanted to laugh, but he swallowed it down, instead. “Harry, you’ve… you know that I’m gay.”

A sudden, short laugh came out of Harry, accompanied with a small smile. “Well. I haven’t seen you in two years. Couldn’t be entirely sure.”

 _Two years._ Even after almost a month in the villa, it was the first time that they had mentioned it at all. Up until now, the time frame, even the acknowledgment of their relationship, had been unspoken. Bringing it up now made it feel real, a contrast to their silent charade over the past few weeks. 

“Yeah,” Louis said softly, trying to digest this information. “Yeah. But um, no. We made a deal to stick together. She has a boyfriend.” Then, because they were still here on the topic: “How about you?”

Amusement passed over Harry’s face. “What about me?”

Louis didn’t know if Harry was taking the piss, trying to draw out an uncomfortable confession from him, or if he genuinely didn’t know what he meant. “You know. Are you still bisexual?”

“Yeah.” Harry nodded, and Louis nodded too. So there was definitely still a possibility that Harry could be here for romance. Not that it was any of his business. And even if it was, how could he even ask? 

His thoughts must have been transparently obvious from his facial expression, because after a beat, Harry added, “I’m mostly here for the bakery, though.”

_Mostly._

“Mostly?” Louis asked, drawing out the word curiously. 

Harry gave another nod, a firm, purposeful look in his eyes. Louis wasn’t sure what it meant. 

And although it made him feel hesitant, and a bit uneasy, Louis realized that this moment was an opportunity to find out. Maybe his _only_ opportunity. Before he could chicken out, Louis casually mentioned, “Lainey, then?”

Harry propped his head on his hand, eyes not leaving Louis’. “Not really.”

Oh. Louis felt an unexpected surge of relief flow through his veins, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, before carefully schooling his face into one of polite interest. Louis waggled his eyebrows exaggeratedly. “Julia?”

Harry barked out a laugh, shaking his head. Julia had been eliminated already, and even though Louis had been kidding, a part of him still wanted to _know_. 

But Harry laughed for a little longer, before watching Louis with an amused expression, a new light in his eyes that made him seem much younger, made his eyes that much greener. Suddenly, Louis didn’t know why he had even wondered if Harry had been interested at all. “I heard she didn’t know where Australia was.”

Louis grinned. “She didn’t.”

“How can anyone not know where Australia is?” Harry said incredulously. “It’s insulting to the Australians.”

Insulting, indeed. Louis could picture it: hundreds, _thousands_ of dismayed tweets from Australian viewers who had been offended from that episode. “They must have been the ones who got her eliminated, then.”

Never mind the fact that Louis was pretty sure only UK residents could vote. Hey, maybe there were quite a few dual-citizenships.

Harry’s smile grew. “Imagine all the threats they sent to the producers. Just enough for them to kick her off.”

Louis snorted, relieved at how the atmosphere seemed to lighten, a fraction of the earlier tension dispelled. Harry was smiling, too, and suddenly, Louis was very aware of how they were sitting directly across from each other. There was nothing to look at but at one another, five feet across from each other. 

What was that Vine again? _Two bros chilling in the hot tub. Five feet apart ‘cause they’re not gay._ Except this time, they were five feet apart because they were gay. And Louis was learning now that five feet was not nearly enough to quell the fire that had begun prickling under Louis’ skin.

 _I am having a bad time,_ Louis chanted to himself. This was hell in a sweaty facility. _Maybe hell_ is _a sweaty facility. Maybe that’s what burning in hell means._

Speaking of burning, it was getting to be entirely too hot. Shifting his weight, Louis made the move to haul himself out of the water, just enough to find relief from the heat, to allow his skin to breathe. 

When Louis lifted his head back up, he saw Harry looking at him again, but this time, there was something thick and unreserved in his eyes. This time, the tension that lingered was different — less cautious, fragile. More loaded, charged. 

The air suddenly felt electric. 

Louis’ breath caught in his throat, but he couldn’t make the move to look away. He watched as Harry’s throat hitched similarly, his body made to move forward — when the doors opened once again, and Louis wasn’t sure if he had imagined the movement or not. 

“We’re leaving in half an hour,” one of the producers called, before disappearing back out the door. 

Harry let out an imperceptible sigh, so small that Louis wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t looking at him. “Guess it’s time to hit the showers then,” Harry said, lifting himself out of the hot tub.

Louis swallowed, before following suit. Those yellow shorts would be the death of him. 

\---

This was bad. Louis couldn’t continue being so aroused, so turned on when Harry was around. This was unbearable, unacceptable even. The attraction was unmistakable, and as hard as Louis tried to push it away, it always came seeping back, a lust that wouldn’t disappear no matter how much Louis wanted it to.

He ducked into the shower as quickly as possible so that he wouldn’t have to enter at the same time as Harry did, because he was totally fucked if that happened. He wouldn’t trust his body not to betray him. He even picked the shower stall at the very end of the room, because maybe that would decrease the probability of having to shower close to Harry. 

And okay, maybe Louis was being pathetic. But he was being pathetic for a _reason,_ and that reason was to save his own damn sanity. He tried to convince himself of this as the scorching water streamed down his body, trying to arrange his frantic thoughts into something that resembled composure. 

By the time Louis finally stepped out of the stall, his chest was red from the hot water that had been running down his skin. Most of the boys had come and gone by now, a ruckus that followed them to the change room. 

The rooms were mostly empty by now, the rest of the boys having gone back to the lobby while Louis finished up. There was no noise, except for the faint trickle of water draining into the pipes, and the smooth watery notes of the spa music in the background. It did nothing to calm Louis’ frazzled nerves. 

Louis slipped into a change room stall, and was met with his own reflection — pupils blown, eyes wild. Fuck. He couldn’t even get a grip on himself.

Thankfully, he had some time to collect himself. The changing stall, at least, was a closed box that allowed him complete, unrushed privacy for the first time in over a month. 

Louis took a deep breath, trying to get his body to cooperate, to _chill out_. But as he sunk onto the bench, the thought of Harry holding his gaze was hot, heavy in his memory. He could feel himself getting hard at just the thought. 

_You know that look,_ he thought to himself. _You’ve seen it before._ It was the look Harry had whenever he wanted something, someone — Louis, specifically. That look had always turned into someone getting pinned against the wall, breath hot on Louis’ neck as he began to feel Harry’s erection behind him. Getting fucked into the mattress like there was no tomorrow.

_You’re imagining it. You’re just so fucking horny you can’t think straight._

Just as Louis was about to stand up and shuck off his towel, a noise made his head snap up, and he looked up to see the door open. Suddenly, there was Harry, standing with wide eyes. In nothing but a towel. “I didn’t know —” Harry started, before his eyes glanced downwards momentarily. Right where Louis’ cock was, half hard and glaringly obvious against the towel. Harry’s eyes clouded over with lust. 

_There it is. You weren’t imagining it._

Like a crack of lightning, something in the air snapped.

Louis hated how he was the first to initiate it, but if he was being truthful, maybe Harry met him at the same time when Louis surged forward, closing the gap between them. And then they were kissing, deep and dirty, an air of desperation to how their mouths slid against each other, but it wasn’t clumsy or careless _._

Not even a bit. It had been two years. Two years, and yet the way Harry’s lips moved against Louis’ was deliberate, familiar, like muscle memory. Like fingers on a violin, finding the notes to an old melody. 

Maybe it had never been forgotten.

Suddenly, he was aware of how they were both wearing nothing but towels, after a whole month of having seen each other half-naked. Now, there were no cameras. Nothing. Just them. 

As Louis’ back hit the wall, Harry’s hand slid into his hair, gripping gently. Gently, because Louis had never liked it too rough — not until he was underneath, body weighted down and unable to move. 

He felt his hips buck up in response, pressing against Harry’s pelvis, causing Louis to stifle a small moan into Harry’s neck. And while the heat seeping from Harry’s groin made the fire zip through Louis’ veins even faster, he wanted more. _Needed_ more. Through the towel, Harry was already hard, thick against Louis’ thigh; every touch, every place in which their bodies brushed against one another felt electric. Louis’ eyes fluttered closed at the touch, a whine caught in his throat as his hips continued to grind upward. 

Harry groaned in response, filling Louis’ ears like a sweet melody, and he had forgotten how much that sound had always impacted him, driving into his whole body with want. 

Suddenly, it was like Harry’s hands were everywhere — on his chest, on his back, gripping at his neck. “Do you know what it’s like to have to see you every day,” Harry rasped into Louis’ ear, sending a thrill through his body. “Not being able to touch.”

He followed his words with a firm squeeze to Louis’ arse, making Louis moan. 

It was too warm, everything was too warm, and the towels needed to come off. Louis suddenly had a vision of Harry taking him, pinning him against the bench, fucking him. It had been entirely too long, and having Harry right now, after so many weeks, in the flesh, warm skin against warm skin, made Louis feel like he was going mad.

He felt a hand part his towel to the side. “You look so good,” Harry continued, squeezing his bare thigh. “Just want to touch you all the time.”

“Babe,” Louis said, the word slipping out before he could stop it. “Just touch me now.”

Harry’s eyes were cloudy, wild, pupils blown. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” Louis breathed. Fuck it. Louis felt like he was losing his mind; any amount of logic that he had previously had as to why this could be a bad idea was out the window as Harry laid his hand against Louis’ skin, groping and squeezing.

Right now, he didn’t care about logic. He wanted Harry to take his logic away, replace it with his lips on Louis’ skin, wanted his body to convulse at Harry’s touch.

Still, there was hesitation in Harry’s face, as if he was considering Louis’ response. “Will you regret it afterwards?”

The question hit Louis like a cold splash of water. “No,” he said assuredly, holding Harry’s evaluating gaze. “Will you?”

Harry shook his head, curls swaying slightly. His lips were red and swollen from their kisses, pupils blown and hair sweaty. Fuck, he looked like he had just been fucked. And they hadn’t even done that yet.

“No,” came Harry’s reply.

“Okay,” Louis said, and their lips met together again. Something about the kiss this time was slower, less rushed, though just as hungry. 

Harry brought his lips to Louis’ ear as he traced his fingers up and down Louis’ hip, sending shivers down his skin.“Be quiet,” he whispered, the words said right into Louis’ ear. Harry darted out his tongue, sending hot kisses down Louis’ neck, like he couldn’t help himself. 

The words and kisses sent a shiver down Louis’ spine as Harry slipped his towel off, leaving him exposed to Harry’s gaze.

Harry took a moment to watch Louis hungrily, before he pinned him against the wall and cupped him between his legs. Louis couldn’t help but go limp as Harry closed his fingers around him, large hand stroking him up and down, grunting at every stroke. There was a thickness in Louis’ throat as he squeezed his eyes shut, mouth parting effortlessly, the shared breaths between them the only sound he could hear. When he opened his eyes again, Harry was watching him closely, eyes dark. 

Desperately, Louis closed the gap between them, open mouthed kisses that heightened the slow pull of Harry’s large hand around him. Harry kissed at the same rhythm that he was touching Louis — unrushed, purposeful. It drove Louis insane.

“Oh my God,” Louis choked out as Harry returned his lips to Louis’ neck, placing wet, open-mouth kisses, before bringing his teeth to pull on Louis’ ear. Louis shuddered, unrestrained desire lacing through his body. 

“Yeah, babe,” Harry breathed, hips rocking against Louis’ thigh. “You sound so good, fuck.”

A high moan escaped Louis’ mouth, desperate. This was _unfair,_ whether Harry was aware of this or not; he knew that his praise was what had always made Louis weak — having Harry’s whole attention on him drove Louis crazy. 

“Shh,” Harry reminded him, placing a hand on Louis’ mouth. “If you’re quiet I’ll uncover your mouth and do other things with my free hand.”

Immediately, images flew across Louis’ mind. “What things,” Louis rasped out, before he felt another hand fly from his lower back to his arse. A loud slap echoed in the air and Louis gasped, thrusting up into Harry’s touch.

“I’ve been giving a lot of attention to your front,” Harry rasped, voice low and smooth. “Just want to give some love to the back as well.”

Harry followed up his words with a groan of appreciation as he kneaded Louis’ arse, staring at his backside fervently. 

“God, your arse, _fuck,_ you look so good,” Harry murmured to himself, before looking up against to meet Louis’ eyes. 

Harry was fighting dirty. He knew how much Louis loved to be fingered, to be rimmed, anything that involved Harry touching his hole. But it was mutual. Louis also knew that this was what got Harry off the quickest, too. 

“If you can keep quiet, maybe I’ll finger you,” Harry breathed. “You think you’d like that, babe?”

“I think you’d be doing that for your benefit,” Louis said, trying not to sound affected. “You love my arse.”

A smirk appeared across Harry’s face, but it was weak, and Louis knew that Harry was affected, too. Louis needed to have some extra leverage. He slipped his hand underneath Harry’s towel, gripping him firmly, and watched as Harry’s mouth parted in an _o_.

“Fuck,” Harry wheezed, throwing his head back, thudding against the wall. The hand on Louis’ arse loosens, before regaining its grip. 

Fuck this. Now that Harry had brought it up, Louis couldn’t stop thinking about how Harry could fill him up so well with just one finger inside. His hole clenched emptily at the thought, and he shut his eyes, wanting.

“You don’t have lube, do you?” Louis panted, as Harry’s finger inched closer between his cheeks.

Louis could see the gears in Harry’s brain working, wild eyes shifting left and right. “There’s massage oil on the sink counter.” 

“Get it,” Louis gritted through his teeth. He didn’t want to wait. He had been waiting for a whole month, for God’s sake. 

Harry didn’t need to be told twice, throwing a towel around his waist before opening the door. Then, he froze.

And even through the crack of the changing stall door, Louis could see what had held Harry in his tracks.

So the change room hadn’t been entirely empty. Niall was staring at them, scandalized. Even if Niall hadn’t heard anything, it was clear what they had just been doing. The shock written across Niall’s face was obvious, and their dishevelled state wasn’t playing in their favour.

 _Fuck_. 

“Uh,” Niall said, stunned. Without saying another word, he scurried out the door.

A moment of uncertain silence passed, before Harry said, “He left his bag.”

Louis sighed, running a hand through his hair, unsure what to make of this present, stilted moment. “I’ll give it to him.”

\---

After dressing in a haste and leaving an awkward Harry in the change room, Louis found Niall in the main waiting area. Niall glanced up as soon as Louis walked in, a hesitant look on his face. 

Taking a deep breath, Louis motioned for Niall to stand off to the side with him, away from the other boys. Motionlessly, he held out the bag. Niall accepted. 

“Harry is my ex-boyfriend,” Louis said as a way of greeting. Straightforward. A bomb shell, no less. But it was, no doubt, a lesser blow compared to what Niall had just witnessed. 

Nodding slowly, Niall’s expression was pensive. “That makes sense. It makes a lot of sense, actually,” he added, furrowing his brows in deeper thought. 

Now it was Louis’ turn to be taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you two were always looking at each other,” Niall said, like this was a casual observation. “Not just like, glancing over, either. Like full-on staring.”

Okay. Maybe he had been looking at Harry a disproportionate amount. And maybe Eleanor was onto something, after all. “That was only the most recent week, though.”

Niall shook his head, a pleased smirk appearing on his face. “This has been the whole month, mate. I don’t think I just really realized it until this week, when the staring started to get weirder. He looks at you like he wants to eat you, do you know that? Did he always do that in your relationship?”

Louis felt a flush coming on his cheeks, and whacked Niall on the arm to distract himself from this new revelation. “Stop.”

Niall grinned, leaning against the wall. Despite his stunned reaction earlier, it seemed as if he was plenty calm now. “How long were you together for?” he asked. It was funny how Niall had taken the role of concerned friend who suddenly knew Louis’ biggest life problem at the moment. But he was glad that out of everyone else, it was Niall.

Louis took a deep breath. Exhaled. “Four years.” Even as he said it, for some reason, it felt like a bandaid being ripped off.

Niall whistled, eyes round. “Damn. That’s a long time.” He allowed a pause in the conversation, before asking cautiously, “Why did you two break up?”

This was a reasonable question, one that would logically follow any revelation such as this one. The break up had been so long ago; at this point in time, it only made sense for Louis to appear as if he wasn’t affected anymore, to have the same break up story roll off his tongue like nothing from having repeated it so many times.

But he was still affected, and he hadn’t told that many people the unabridged version without the formulaic, one-sentence response of _we just drifted apart._ And maybe Niall could tell, especially with how Louis took a moment to respond.

Finally, Louis chose the version that would hopefully appear convincing. A version that, at least, was closer to the truth. “Harry was in New York, I was in London. We had different lives, and they didn’t match up.” 

Niall glanced at him in contemplation, before nodding. Louis couldn’t tell whether his friend had fully accepted the short explanation or not; it hadn’t shown on his face. Instead of probing further, he asked, “Why are you both here on the show?”

“We didn’t know,” Louis insisted. “What, you think I would have applied if I knew my ex-boyfriend was on this show?”

“No,” Niall said, rolling his eyes, as if Louis was the stupid one here. “I mean, why aren’t you both together? You’re both obviously still in love with each other.”

Before Louis could respond, Carla appeared, shouting for all of them to meet outside.

And though he probably shouldn’t have thought too much about it, Niall’s words followed Louis all the way to the van. 


	10. Chapter 10

_“I went to Thailand and a lizard bit my toe. It was the most dangerous thing that ever happened to me.”_

_Jasper, Week 5, solo interview_

\---

Things were awkward and stilted when Louis and Niall finally climbed into the van. Even after their conversation, Louis wished that Niall would be a little less… obvious. But no, his friend’s face was still pink from having seen Louis and Harry do _things_ , and the fact that Harry was steadfastly avoiding eye contact with either of them didn’t make it any better. Luckily, none of the other male islanders seemed to notice the tight atmosphere as they pulled out of the car park.

Louis’ thoughts were on overdrive. He didn’t know _what_ he was supposed to think, and wasn’t it funny that this had basically been his equilibrium state ever since Harry had entered the villa? It was all _Harry, Harry, Harry_. Harry, the grown man with the tattoos and the stubble along his jawline and the bright green eyes, entering the villa for the first time. Harry, apprehensive and sweet, the one who had taken the initiative to make Louis feel better about the whole thing, to give them a shot as _friends_. Harry, the ex with the tiny swim trunks that made Louis feel like his face and heart were sometimes on fire at the same time. 

Harry, whispering filth into Louis’ ear half an hour ago.

Louis stared blankly out the window, ignoring the chatter from Chad and Ethan behind him. Mistake or not, the thing was, he had enjoyed what had just happened between him and Harry. And Harry… Harry had enjoyed it too, right? There was a possibility that it could have been the heat of the moment, never to be spoken of anymore. But then again.

_Will you regret it afterwards?_

_No. Will you?_

_No._

The steadiness in Harry’s eyes, the fact that he had checked in to make sure this was what Louis had wanted… that couldn’t just be in the heat of the moment. Despite the graceless way they had essentially leapt at each other, Harry’s words had been deliberately chosen. 

_You’re obviously still in love with each other,_ Niall’s words echoed.

Was Niall right? There was no one who knew Louis like Harry did, who clicked with him as well as Harry did. And that was why Louis had never really gotten over him, wasn’t it? Why, even after years of trying to distract himself from the emotions that came with thinking about their break-up, of avoiding Harry on every social media platform, he still couldn’t get rid of how Harry filled his thoughts so easily, penetrating the walls of his brain without having to try. How his smile lingered in Louis’ mind for a second too long, how his rumbling laugh always followed Louis down the hall. 

All these years of trying to move on hadn’t been as effective as Louis had hoped. All he had to do was _look_ at Harry for every single emotion to come rushing back as if it were yesterday. 

Bravely, Louis shot a glance at Harry, who had his head directed toward the window. Had it been a bad idea, what they'd just done? Even if it had been, Louis couldn’t explain why it had felt so right. He hadn’t thought about it, had just let himself get swept away without thought. It was a feeling that he hadn’t felt since meeting Harry, since falling for him the first time around. 

And now he was on the verge of falling again. Except this time, he was teetering on the edge of a precipice, not knowing whether he should jump. Especially when he wasn’t sure what lay beyond

The van finally arrived in front of the villa doors, where Carla was already waiting. The lads all hopped out of the vehicle, stretching their legs after the long drive. Louis took one more peek at Harry, and couldn’t help but notice the way the evening sunlight hit him at all the right angles. Just _looking_ at him gave Louis flutters, low and unmistakable, beneath his navel. He’d tried to push down those feelings before their kiss, but now he allowed himself to acknowledge them. 

At the last second, Harry caught his eye. Before Louis could make sense of the suspended moment, Harry shot Louis a shy smile before brushing past him to enter the villa. 

There was something tentative in that smile. As if Harry wasn’t sure if this was something he could do now, even if he had been smiling a lot at Louis for the past few weeks. 

Once again, things were ambiguous, the ground beneath them uncertain. Louis’ heart felt a pang. It was funny how quickly they had transitioned from two people who had known each other best to strangers. 

But at least the smile was willing, voluntary. And that, that meant that Harry wasn’t trying to avoid Louis. That at least he didn’t feel any remorse over what had just happened.

 _God_. It was once again hard not to imagine how different their lives would have been if they had never ended things. If _he_ had never been the reason they’d ended things. 

The rest of the day trudged on, and Louis didn’t remember much of it. Every moment was interrupted by thoughts of Harry, who was never too far away. Louis wasn’t able to stop himself from casting small glances at Harry throughout the evening as he mulled over their situation, trying his best to be inconspicuous so that the other islanders wouldn’t catch on. He noticed that Harry was doing the same.

“Goodnight,” Louis blurted out later that night, when Harry brushed silently past him into the bedroom. He had to say something to Harry. Just so he knew where they both stood. 

Harry turned around, his face open, _lovely_. “Goodnight,” Harry said, eyes crinkling just a bit. It was enough for Louis to smile back, ducking his head down.

When Louis drifted off to sleep that night, Eleanor’s hair tickling his nose, he dreamt of gentle lips and golden skin, warm and soft to the touch. Curly brown hair, a soft moan, almost like a small huff of air, sending sparks down Louis’ spine. Even in his state of half-consciousness, there was something in Louis that knew this situation was a mess. 

He still slept better than he had in weeks.

\---

Louis woke up to an unceremonious slap on the leg. Startled and sleepy, he blinked his eyes open, noting that the room was still dark and that Eleanor, for some reason, hadn’t been woken up yet. Then he made the mistake of sitting up and looking around, and almost yelped when all he saw was Zayn’s face, covered in shadows, staring at him in that disturbing way he sometimes did when he really wanted Louis to shut up. 

So naturally, Louis did the first thing he thought of: he complained.  
  
“ _Zayn_ , what the actual fuck, you wanker. It’s not even morning yet,” he said, before Zayn moved abruptly towards him and mimed pulling a zipper across his lips. Okay. Zayn clearly wanted Louis to shut up. 

“Get out of bed,” Zayn whispered, gesturing towards the light of the hallway. “We’re leaving.” 

So that was ominous.

Annoyed but also just a _little_ bit scared for his life, Louis quietly slipped out of the bed, putting on a pair of vans and a hoodie before heading towards the villa entrance. Zayn was tip-toeing around the bedroom, shaking awake some of the other boys as well. It was a miracle that none of the girls had woken up with all the ruckus they were making. 

When Louis finally made it to the entrance, rubbing his eyes, he noted firstly that Carla was standing there, looking like a reincarnated version of the mean schoolteacher Louis had had in year 8. She stood in front of the glass doors, clipboard in hand, watching Louis like he was the entire reason why she was up at _God knew_ what time. Louis had a weird flashback to that morning, so many weeks ago, when she had knocked on his hotel door and told him they were heading into the villa. _Some things don’t change_ , Louis thought to himself, marvelling for a second at how much things _had_ actually changed since then. 

The next thing Louis noticed was Harry, standing next to Carla and looking impossibly tired and rumpled, eyes still drowsy and wearing his bathrobe. When he saw Louis, a sleepy grin stretched across his face, the pillow imprints carving deeper into the left side of his cheek. Louis felt his mouth go dry and his heart swell without his permission. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Still, he offered a smile and padded over to Harry, feet trudging along the gravel. “Hi.” 

“Hi.” Harry’s voice was soft. Louis felt timid all of a sudden as he wrapped his jacket around him. It was a little incredulous, how Harry was able to make him feel all sorts of things — optimistic and confused and comfortable all at once, even at ridiculous hours in the morning, when all he really wanted to do was go back to sleep. Louis’ eyes gazed quickly over Harry’s face, at the generous lips curved into a small smile, at the way there was the shadow of a dimple just beginning to form on his left cheek. At yesterday’s memories, Louis felt his heart beat a bit quicker. 

“They’re really trying to kill us, huh?” Harry said, words slow from the early morning. Louis was aware that Harry’s softly spoken words were deliberate; like an invitation, a gentle nudge, to break the slightly stilted nature of their situation.

Louis took the invitation. “If they are, I’m going to kill Zayn as soon as we get wherever we’re supposed to go.” 

Harry stifled a small giggle when Zayn suddenly appeared, rolling his eyes at Louis’ comment.

“Just for that, maybe I’ll wake you up early every morning from now on,” Zayn countered. Louis noted that Carla shot them both a dirty look. 

“Ah, but for that you’d have to wake up early yourself, Zaynie,” Harry commented mildly, lifting his index finger upwards like he was some sort of brilliant professor. 

Louis snorted, maybe a little more affectionately than he meant to. “Harry speaks a lot of truth, mate,” he said, jumping in. “I don’t even think you’d be _able_ to wake up every morning, as much as you may want to make me suffer.” 

Zayn shot them both an unimpressed glare. “Hate the both of you,” he muttered, before walking away, and they both grinned. 

Maybe it was the conversation that did it, but the air suddenly felt noticeably lighter. If there was a moment to talk about whatever had happened the day before, it was probably now. No cameras, no one else around. 

The moment hung suspended for just a moment before Louis opened his mouth. But to his surprise, Harry beat him to the punch. 

“Yesterday,” Harry said, words as steady as his eyes on Louis. So they were talking about it. No shying away, no excuses.

“Yesterday,” Louis repeated with a tone of finality, waiting for Harry to proceed.

Harry’s lips pursed slightly, a movement that Louis recognized as an anxious tic. “No regrets?”

Louis kept his gaze fixed on Harry, giving a shake of the head. “No regrets,” he murmured quietly.

A smile broke through on Harry’s face, blooming like a fresh flower. “Good. Me neither,” he said. 

The way Harry was looking at him, eyes bright, sent a feeling of warmth that brimmed throughout Louis’ body. It wasn’t just pure desire, blinded by temporary need. There was another part of Louis, deep inside him, that wanted other things, too. To wake up next to Harry, tangled in the silk bed sheets that he had insisted on buying once. To make him tea every morning, just because he could.

But after a second, Louis glanced away. Because as much as he didn't want to, he was still hesitant. He never wanted to stop kissing Harry. But if it happened again, he'd fall, sudden and fast, and he hadn't yet determined if Harry would be there to catch him.

\---

Well, fuck. They should’ve _known._

After an extremely long drive, with only one break to stretch their legs, the van had pulled up to a gate that was identical to the entry of the villa. Through the fog of sleep deprivation, Louis had wondered for a minute why they were being brought back to the villa. And then he’d realized. 

It was time for the infamous lads trip to Casa Amor.

“Alright, everyone!” Carla announced as soon as they clambered out of the vehicle. “Boys, you’re going to have to gather at the entrance right over there. In a second, one of you will receive a very… shall we say… _interesting_ text.” She wiggled her brows, her excitement palpable. Louis thought it was sweet how she genuinely thought that none of the boys knew what was happening right now. 

“Holy fuckin’ shit, mate, is it Casa Amor already?” Niall whispered to Louis, eyes wide. He had an expression on his face that was a comical mix between terror and intrigue. 

Ethan and Jasper, on the other hand, were whooping and hollering excitedly as everyone looked around the area. Louis winced as Chad gave Ethan a high five, feeling bad for Charlotte. 

Casa Amor was a smart trick, Louis had to admit. When he had watched those _Love Island_ episodes so long ago with Liam, Casa Amor had been hands-down the most interesting, and had always caused more than enough drama to keep viewers watching until the finale. The new cast prevented things from getting too monotonous, not to mention the increase in dramatics.

Even though they all knew what Casa Amor entailed, Carla went through a thorough explanation of what the next few days would look like. The boys and the girls would be separated for a few days, and introduced to a completely _new_ set of male and female islanders, with the option to leave their original partner for a new one. So not only would the couples have to stand the test of time, but the added test of temptation, too. If ITV wanted drama, this was surely the way to get it. 

Louis snorted at the thought of how some of the girls were probably reacting to the boys' disappearance. Nora and Liz would be in hysterics, for sure. And probably accusing each other of hiding Niall away. 

_Ding_. Chad looked up from his phone, staring at the rest of the boys. There was a sudden tension in the air; Louis imagined that the viewers back home would be positively vibrating with excitement. He tried to muster up some sort of enthusiasm. Had to please the fans, and all that. 

“Alright lads, you’ve got your bags. You’ve got your smiles. All you need are some ladies to impress! #Casawhaaat? #CasaAmor!” Chad yelled, pumping a fist in the air.

Sometimes Louis wished that the producers would come up with better sentences; he barely tried to hide his cringe. Next to him, Harry stifled a small snicker at Louis' disdain, and Carla shot them both a murderous glare in warning. 

The boys proceeded to grab their luggage and run towards the bedroom, as instructed by Zayn. Apparently, they were going to do some slow motion shots of them running excitedly towards their new villa, as if the outside didn’t look completely identical to the last one. 

Zayn smirked as he filmed Louis running several times, suitcase in hand, towards a bed that was identical to the one he’d left a couple hours prior. It was possible that Louis had not done something so arduous and exhausting in a very long time. He hadn’t bothered hitting the gym before coming here, which was becoming more and more clear. Even _Niall_ was owning his arse. 

Once they were done, the boys had an hour to hang out before the new girls arrived at the villa and filming would begin. Louis took the liberty of exploring the area, although if he was being honest, there wasn’t much to explore. Not only were the villa entrance and bedroom identical to their old villa, but so was everything else. The same white walls, the same pool, the exact same layout. After spending over a month in a white house, Louis didn’t understand why the show would spend their budget to recreate the same property. 

Some of the boys were already on the lawn, doing what they usually did — Niall was on a beanbag chair with his guitar, Ethan had opted for the outdoor gym.

Harry, on the other hand, was sitting on a swing bench on the far side of the lawn. As soon as Louis entered, Harry looked up, an expectant expression on his face. The smile on Harry’s face was sunny when Louis sat down next to him. 

“So, nice place, right?” Louis said.

“I don’t know,” Harry replied, giving a too-casual shrug. “I kind of liked the old place better. Nicer furniture, you know?”

Louis fought a smile. “Really? I thought that the furniture there was kind of shit.” Louis was certain that this conversation was one that the producers wouldn’t have any interest in airing.

Across the pool, he could see Niall raising his eyebrows at them. He waggled them up and down, looking far too self-satisfied for someone who was watching his friend have a perfectly normal conversation with another islander. Maybe Niall knowing about them wasn’t the best thing. He was definitely having too much fun with this new revelation, that much was clear.

Harry directed his eyes to where Louis was currently glaring. “Ah,” he said, understanding. “Niall.”

Niall made a hole gesture with his left hand, and slid his right index finger in and out of it. Mature. Very mature.

 _Thank you, Niall,_ Louis thought dryly. “And that’s all for today,” Louis said, wishing he could return an equally obscene gesture with his middle finger. “We don’t need to look at Niall any more than this.”

Harry looked at Niall a little longer, smile quirked up, before drawing his eyes back to Louis. “He’s just probably amused because he knows why I made those pancakes now.”

Louis’ heart accelerated. Just a little bit. “Oh?” he said, hoping his voice wasn’t too high. “Why’s that?”

The smile on Harry’s face was sheepish, soft dimples pressing into the sides of his cheeks. “Because you like pancakes,” he said, as if Louis didn’t know. 

The way Harry was looking at him expectantly, a flush high on his cheeks, made Louis want to pull him in and kiss him again, soft and sure. To just keep Harry’s face in his hands, forget all about how they had a bunch of half-naked men and producers milling about, forget about how the cameras could turn on at any moment and catch them in the act.

But the reality was that it was just that; a possibility, a possibility that was more likely than not. So Louis kept his hands by his sides. “I liked them a lot,” he said instead. “Thank you.”

“Then it was worth it,” Harry said, putting his cheek in his palm happily.

Was it naive to consider that things might work out? Louis looked away, tucking his feet beneath him. Maybe. Nothing that Harry had given him so far was cause for doubt. He needed to approach this with caution. But still, as Harry reached out to poke Louis with his toe, a sweet but subtle gesture, Louis couldn’t help but smile back.

\---

"Hi boys!" a voice trilled, and the boys all turned to see two girls stroll into Casa Amor, hand in hand. Blonde and beautiful, looking almost identical. It was like day one all over again. Another four girls followed after, strutting in with enthusiasm. Louis saw a few jaws drop. Chad, for one. _Knew it._

“Hello!” Jasper called out, making no attempt to hide his excitement. Immediately, he began waving them over to where he and Chad were sitting next to the firepit. 

Louis couldn’t hold back a smug snort when all the girls did was wave back and continue on their way to where Louis, Niall and Harry were sitting. What could he say? They were attractive lads.

A girl with shockingly pink hair made her way to them first. “Hi,” she said, a slight Irish lilt in her voice. “I’m Denise.” Just the hair alone was enough to tell Louis that she was different from all the female candidates. And while she was certainly very beautiful, there was something fierce about her that reminded Louis of Eleanor. This girl was a force to be reckoned with, that was for sure. 

Before Louis or Harry could respond, Niall quickly stretched out his hand. “Niall,” he replied, a bit too eagerly. And Louis thought that maybe it was just the sun, or the fact that he hadn’t slept for long last night, but there was also something… _shy?_ …to the way Niall was acting, the way he said his words. 

His friend’s face was flushed with a rosy hue that couldn’t even be attributed to sunburn. _Oh, wow._ Louis continued to watch as Niall fumbled a few of his words, his Irish accent becoming more pronounced than Louis had ever heard it. Even his seemingly casual “bye,” held an intriguing tone as Denise left after they finished their introductions. 

A few minutes later, all the islanders were sitting in a circle on the grass, talking about… well, Louis couldn’t be sure. Acting like he was interested in a whole new set of girls wasn’t necessarily high on his to-do list right now. 

“So who do you ladies have your eye on?” asked Jasper with a pompous smirk. He was making eyes at one of the girls, who shot him a reserved smile. Louis understood. Most of the girls probably wanted to couple up with someone so that they could stay on the show for longer, but Jasper was a low choice, that much was clear. 

“Well… If I’m being honest, it would be Niall,” Denise started, glancing around the circle. “I’m Irish, he’s Irish, I just thought it would be a good match, you know?” she finished by tossing him a smile.

She was _forward_. And not in the Nora kind of way. Louis could appreciate that.

He wasn’t the only one. He watched in amusement when Niall, on his end, turned bright pink, and released a laugh that sounded like the caw of a crow on helium. Nice. If Denise ended up being even remotely more composed than Nora or Liz, Zayn could finally rest in peace.

Louis tried to catch Harry’s eye, hoping that Harry was as amused as he was. However, a redheaded girl had already engaged him in conversation, whispering something into his ear like she was telling him some sort of secret. 

Right. This was Casa Amor, and people were inevitably going to talk to Harry. It was all too easy to forget that Harry wasn’t his. Even if, for a moment in the change room, it felt like he was. 

Louis tried to swallow the lump in his throat as Harry released a slightly bewildered laugh in response to whatever the girl had just said. It was obvious that she was hitting on him. Ginger Girl suddenly erupted into a fit of hiccupy giggles, which raked at Louis’ nerves. Did she have to laugh so obnoxiously?

Looking away, Louis tried to direct his attention. “What about you?” He heard Jasper ask. Jasper was looking at the two girls on his right, appropriately displeased at his realisation that no one had named him as their ‘type’ thus far. The two girls exchanged a look, before one of them, a girl with brown wavy hair, spoke. 

“Well,” she said, an air of pomposity in her tone, “Louis, I would have chosen you if you didn’t look so taken with Eleanor already.” She fluttered her lashes at him. 

Louis reminded himself not to blink too incredulously, and tried to toss her a smile instead. For the sake of television. _Is it really not that obvious that I’m gay?_ And even if it wasn’t, Louis wasn’t sure what kind of straight appeal he held. He was pretty certain that none of his interactions with Eleanor were cute enough to fawn over. 

From across the circle, Louis noticed that the chatter from Harry and Ginger Girl had momentarily stopped. 

  
At Louis’ lack of a response, the brown-haired girl appeared more annoyed than disappointed. From that reaction alone, Louis was sure that she was more interested in the prospect of nabbing a partner than actually being interested in him. _Figures._

“But since you seem like you’re out of the question,” the girl continued, “I guess I’ll go with Harry,” she concluded, twisting to flash Harry a nauseating smile. 

“I’d go with Harry, too,” said the next girl. “It’s those curls, I swear to God, pretty sure everyone loves them.”

Harry smiled modestly in response, miming a small bowing motion. “Thanks.” Ginger Girl’s face fell slightly. 

“Wow.” Ethan’s voice was unbelieving but also impressed. “Everyone wants our boy Harry, huh?” He slapped Harry on the back, probably a little too hard. “I swear, if it wasn’t for your cooking, I’d want you eliminated now. You’re stealing all the girls around here!”

The group laughed, Ginger Girl a little bit louder than necessary. Something about this scene, how everyone was crowding around Harry, demanding his attention, brought back feelings Louis didn’t want to dredge up.

Niall, noticing the sudden tension in Louis’ posture, shot Louis a probing glance, eyes running back and forth between him and Harry. Louis shook his head imperceptibly. It was fine, everything was fine. Louis just had to sort himself out, that was all. 

After what felt like an eternity spent chatting on the grass, Carla called for lunch. A wave of relief washed over Louis. He couldn’t stand up fast enough. 

As the girls shuffled off to do their beach hut interviews, the boys were pushed towards the kitchen, where several unfamiliar crew members were busily unloading their meals from the van. 

“Oi! We got _chicken_?” Louis heard Niall ask delightedly ahead of him. Niall turned towards Louis, beaming like a ray of sunlight. For a moment, Niall’s chipper attitude removed the queasy feeling that had been settling within him for the past hour.

Louis grinned in response, automatically scanning his eyes for Harry’s reaction towards Niall’s love of food only to find him already engaged in a conversation with Ethan. Probably wasn’t the best time for Louis to go over and talk to him, then. 

“Come sit with me, Lou,” Niall said pointedly, which was a little odd, because Louis would have sat down with him anyway. Following Niall onto the ground next to the pool, Louis eyed him a little quizzically. 

Niall leaned in close, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. Whatever Niall was about to say, it looked like he wasn’t joking around. “So Lou, we need to talk about this. And fast, because we’re probably going to go back to filming in like, five minutes,” he said. 

“Okay,” Louis said. He had a feeling he knew what Niall was about to say. It wasn’t hard to guess.

Niall watched Louis’ face with a careful gaze. “So. You and Harry.”

It wasn’t phrased like a question, but Louis knew it was one. The thing was, it was a question he didn’t know the answer to. A question that had been troubling him since the changing room. What exactly _was_ going on between him and Harry? 

And if Louis were being honest, maybe it would have been easier to answer before Casa Amor had started. Earlier this morning, things had seemed so uncomplicated, it had just been him and Harry sitting by themselves — so simple, so easy. Just them. No cameras, no one else. 

How was he supposed to explain to Niall how all of this was a situation he didn’t know how to handle? One that, maybe, he was better off letting go of? He barely knew how to even explain it to himself. 

So, “I don’t know,” Louis said. Because he didn’t. That was the truth. 

“Okay,” Niall said softly, not probing. He let a reassuring hand rest on Louis’ arm, gentle, reassuring, before leaving Louis to his own clouded thoughts.

 _You’re both obviously still in love with each other_. 

That was what Niall had said. 

_In love with each other. In_ love _with_ each other.

The words kept echoing in Louis’ mind, bouncing around at unexpected, quiet moments when Louis had a few seconds to think.

Somewhere, deep down, Louis knew that this wasn’t exactly the same situation as before, that it never would be. But there were pieces of it that felt all too familiar, recognizable aches that threatened to probe Louis whenever he didn’t want them. 

Near the kitchen, Harry let out a ringing laugh. It was sweet, melodious, echoing in Louis’ ears.

It sent a bittersweet twinge through his body. 

\---

Louis woke up early the next morning without meaning to. After a month in the villa, Louis had noticed that something in his internal alarm clock had definitely shifted, so he wasn’t so tired all the time in the mornings. Which was nice. He wasn’t complaining.

He glanced over at Harry, figuring that it would only be a short period of time before he woke up too. Well. He might as well be the one to prepare their cuppas, this time.

At least the new villa had a cupboard full of different teas. There wasn’t much English Breakfast, but he supposed they’d fill it the stash again before the next morning. Louis grabbed tea for himself and Harry, poured in some water, and popped off to the loo as he waited for the tea to steep.

When he came back from the toilet, he was surprised to find that a number of islanders had woken up. And that Harry’s tea had been touched.

“Oh,” one of the new girls, Sage, said upon seeing Louis freeze at the doorstep and stare at the mug in her hand. “Was this yours? I’m so sorry.”

If it wasn’t for the look of guilt on her face, Louis would have thought she had taken the tea on purpose. But her eyes were apologetic, so Louis figured that this girl was probably just incredibly unaware. Which. Really?

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, heading to the cupboard to fetch more. But when he opened the cabinet door, he found that someone must have taken the remaining few bags. These new girls clearly appreciated their tea. 

As Louis stood there, dumbfounded, Harry came into the kitchen. Immediately, all the girls straightened up.

“Hey,” Harry said, directing his words to Louis, who was still staring at the cupboard, unamused. He cocked his head. “You alright?”

Turning toward him, Louis sighed and gestured at the cupboard. “I made you tea but someone else drank it. And there’s no more English Breakfast.” 

Harry’s face brightened, eliminating any remaining traces of tiredness. “You made me tea?” he said. Over Harry’s shoulder, Louis noticed that the girls were poised, waiting for Harry to turn towards them. Gross.

“Yeah,” Louis said, shrugging a little, because it wasn’t like he could do anything about it. “But I guess you’re going to have to settle for something else.”

A touch on Louis’ arm, and Louis looked up to see Harry looking unexpectedly grateful given that _he_ had the one who had made _Louis_ tea every day. This was only Louis’ second time. “Thanks. I appreciate it anyway.”

“You’re welcome,” Louis said, noting the fondness in his own voice. He felt a surge of warmth curl around his heart. Behind him, he heard a cough that could only be recognized as Niall’s. He didn’t need to turn around to know that he was probably sporting a smug expression on his face. He set the new mug down in front of Harry just as a female voice called out. 

“Hey Harry,” one of the girls said. “Can you cook something for us?”

Harry turned around, leaving his tea on the counter. “I’ll make us some breakfast.” 

And sure enough, when Louis looked to his right, Niall’s mouth was set in a smirk. If it hadn’t been for the cameras, Louis would have flipped him the finger. Instead, he opted to turn his head away and hide his smile into his shirt as he made another cuppa.

\---

To their credit, the girls quickly realized that Louis wasn’t an option to go for. It might have been because Louis didn’t show any interest in engaging with them (under the pretense that he was staying committed to Eleanor), or maybe they had somehow realized that he was gay. Either way, they didn’t bother him too much. 

There weren't really any of the girls that he was keen to befriend, either. Except for Denise, who Louis quickly learned had a sweet, witty personality along with a spunky demeanor. She was certainly a good match for Niall, who seemed to forget what his name was every time she was near.

“So you play guitar,” Denise said, casually draping an arm over Niall’s chair as they sat next to the pool. If it were Liz or Nora, it would’ve been classified as straight flirting. But Louis could tell that for Denise, it was just who she was. She was very self-assured, and didn’t seem to care whether anyone saw it as flirting or not. Denise was someone who did whatever she liked. 

“Yeah,” Niall said, and Louis noticed that he had sunnies on his face now. Good call. It would probably be easier to talk to Denise if she couldn’t tell that he was nervous half of the time. 

“What will it take for you to write me a song?” Denise asked confidently, and Niall let out a chuckle that sounded like that of an old, jumpy grandpa. 

Oh God. This was too good. He wished he had a bucket of popcorn or a glass of wine to watch this whole thing with. Or someone. He waved Harry over, who had been jumping rope not too far away. At Louis’ gesture, Harry stopped skipping and came over.

“Hi,” he said, out of breath. Louis wasn’t sure how Harry could exercise in the heat, he felt like he was baking. 

“Hey,” Louis said, biting down a grin at how fit Harry looked, even in his sweaty state. “Come sit with me.”

“Okay,” Harry said, grabbing a chair. “Ooooh, denial.”

Louis gave Harry a blank look. “What?”

“DeNiall,” Harry said matter-of-factly. “That’s what their ship name would be.”

Louis stared at him for one second, before bursting in laughter. “Oh my God, Harry. I think you’ve really come up with something good here.”

“I want this trending on Twitter,” Harry said, standing up for emphasis, spreading his hands wide. “We are going to get ‘Deniall’ trending worldwide.”

His face held such enthusiastic joy, and Louis rolled his eyes despite the fond twang in his chest. “I’m sure you’re going to patent it, too.”

“I will,” Harry said. 

“So,” Louis said casually, and felt nervous even though he wasn’t sure why. “Have you got your eye on anyone new?”

Harry studied him a bit before saying, “I don’t think so. I’m pretty happy with who I’m coupled with, actually.” 

Before Louis could think, _Lainey,_ he realized that Harry was looking at him, eyes earnest. 

_Oh._

A red-headed figure plopped down next to them. “Hi,” she said, voice chipper. 

_Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something?_ Louis wanted to scream. Except no, she couldn’t see, because to her, Louis and Harry were just two eligible bachelors having a bro moment. 

Louis wondered what it would be like if everyone else knew that they weren’t just friends. If they knew that in fact, they were both men who were sharing an intimate moment, who actually had had their hands down each other’s pants just a couple of days ago. 

But that was only for him and Harry to know. So instead, here they were, with Ginger Girl trying to make advances on Harry at every chance she got. 

“Hi,” Harry responded, because he was polite, and decidedly not wearing an annoyed expression. Like Louis, for example.

“I just wanted to get to know you two better,” Ginger Girl said, even though _you two_ was clearly translating to just one of them. 

“What was your name again?” Louis asked her. Probably not the nicest thing to say, admitting that he hadn’t bothered to learn her name at all from the first night. But at this point, was he really supposed to care? 

Ginger Girl was clearly irritated, although Louis could tell she was trying not to show it. “Juniper,” she said snippily. 

Juniper. Louis wondered who her hippie parents were. “Like a nymph,” Louis said aloud, which probably didn’t help the situation; Juniper’s brows furrowed even more. 

“So Juniper,” Harry said, casting an amused glance at Louis, “where are you from?”

Louis didn’t really care. He wondered how long Juniper was planning to loiter around. “I’m gonna get some water,” he declared, standing up. Harry gave him a nod, but Juniper was too busy fixated on Harry to look at him. Louis fought the temptation to roll his eyes. 

As he walked by Niall, Louis noticed that he was significantly closer to Denise than a few minutes ago. Apparently, he was now showing her how to play the guitar. Good job, Niall.

The kitchen was occupied by a few of the new girls, some of whom greeted Louis as he walked to the sink. Louis smiled politely in response. Maybe he should’ve gotten to know at least some of them, since he was sure that a few would make it past Casa Amor. Based on how desperate Jasper was for anyone’s attention, he knew that at least one of these girls would couple up with him, if only to stay on the island. 

“So, Louis,” one of the girls began, even though her gaze was directed at Harry and Juniper. “How serious is Harry about Lainey?”

Louis’ body stiffened. He wished that they would talk about anything else, anything else at all. But then again, this was Casa Amor, and Harry was, well, _Harry…_ Louis would have been fooling himself if he had thought this wasn’t how the week was going to turn out eventually.

In hindsight, Louis shouldn’t have been surprised. But maybe it would have been a lot easier to handle beforehand, before Harry had kissed him, before Harry had admitted that he had made pancakes for him.

Then Louis wouldn’t have had to feel like he had to compete for Harry’s affections the way he did, right now. 

Louis tried not to let aggravation seep into his voice. “I think they’re pretty serious, you know?” Obvious lie. Nobody would catch it except for the viewers, who knew that Lainey was insecure about Harry. But even then, maybe the viewers would give Louis the benefit of the doubt and actually believe him.

Face falling, the girl turned toward Louis. “Oh,” she said, clearly upset. For a moment, Louis felt bad, because from what Louis had gathered, she did seem nice.

God. It was just so weird to have Harry back, _physically_ , in front of him again. But in a way, it still felt as if Harry was just as far away as he had been two years ago. Even if Harry was right here. 

Louis tried not to think about it too much.

And even if he wanted to, Louis couldn’t exactly return to Harry. By the time Juniper had left, another girl had replaced her, animatedly talking to him in a way that made Louis feel like they were all in separate interviews, competing for a prestigious job position. As much as Louis wanted to interrupt, their conversation wasn’t exactly one that Louis could be a part of.

The theme continued throughout the whole morning — Louis seeing if Harry was available, but realizing that he was already preoccupied with someone else trying to get his attention. At some point, Louis gave up. 

Louis suddenly wondered if the whole idea that things between him and Harry were fine again was foolish, like maybe he had been in over his head. It felt like a lifetime ago that they had both been in the dressing room, just the two of them, and now, he had just been hit with a splash of cold reality. He wanted that dressing room again, the simplicity of their feelings. Louis admitted to himself that the real world didn’t exist in the changing stalls of high-end spas. 

No. Reality was being on a love-based reality TV show, filmed for millions of viewers to watch, to _criticize_. It was remembering that he was going to go back to his real life in the autumn, back to Manchester with his family where he would be pursuing law. And it was reminding himself that Harry would be in London, managing his fancy new bakery, meeting and charming new friends the way Harry had always done effortlessly. 

\---

At this point, Louis wasn’t going to kid himself anymore. He would admit that okay, _yes_ , the _Love Island_ challenges had been kind of fun to watch when he was a viewer, witnessing everything from the comfort of his own home. Throw in a couple bottles of wine and Liam into the mix, and he’d had a _splendid_ time watching the islanders do wacky challenges for entertainment. 

But after having completed more than his fair share of challenges, and knowing what it was like to be an islander? Well. Louis wasn’t going to bother gathering any more energy than he absolutely needed to. If the viewers thought he was a little bit of a grinch about challenges, so be it.

Louis tried to ignore the pinpricks of annoyance he felt at the thought of having to do another challenge. Or, well. Specifically, at the thought of having to _watch_ certain girls in the group do the challenges, and flirt obscenely while they were at it. Juniper maybe came to mind. Maybe. He could already feel the irritation itching under his skin just thinking about it.

Louis looked around the group, where people were starting to pair up with one another. Denise had staked her claim on Niall right away, which made sense. After observing the whole guitar thing, Louis had to admit that the two of them were good together, that much was clear. 

Niall, Louis could tell, had even started to loosen up around her. And Louis was happy for him, he was, but admittedly, a part of him was scared of what could happen if Niall picked her instead of going with one of the girls from their original villa. If that happened, there was a high possibility that Nora or Liz would unleash a rage that had never before been seen — Louis could already picture his obituary: _Louis Tomlinson, age 27, passed away on the show_ Love Island _as another casualty of the 2nd Great Irish Fight_. 

He himself was paired up with a nice girl named Aislynn, who, fortunately, seemed to know instinctively that Louis had no romantic interest in her. At least they wouldn’t have to pretend to be anything other than acquaintances that were still getting to know each other. He was grateful.

Harry, on the other hand. He certainly wasn’t having any trouble finding a partner, which was expected. Two of the girls had asked to join him in the challenge, and he had gone with Juniper, while the other islander had reluctantly paired up with Jasper. Louis looked away, pushing aside any unwelcome feelings of bitterness and, surprisingly, resentment. There was no point in feeling those things. It was what it was. He had to get a grip.

 _Ding_. “Islanders — today you will be getting a lot of... _hands-on_ experience,” Juniper announced, reading from her phone. “But don’t get too excited — this is where the fun begins. Girls, you will give your best shot at creating a pottery masterpiece, but none of you will be able to _see_ what you’re making. Instead, the _boys_ will be your eyes for today! #gethandsy #nofears”

Hands-on experience? The islanders hollered and cheered in response, with the girls looking particularly excited. 

Carla directed them towards the villa terrace, which had been set up with six stations for the new pairs of islanders in the villa. As everyone gathered near the stations, Carla briefed them on what exactly they were going to be doing — the boys would be standing in front of the pottery wheel, while the girls would be sitting at the tables blindfolded, using their hands to shape the clay. Like that scene in the fucking _Ghost_ movie. Of course.

Louis reluctantly got himself set up at station three with Aislynn. Behind him, he could hear Juniper giggle teasingly at Harry. He was beginning to think the incessant sound was going to be etched into the background of his nightmares. 

“Don’t worry,” Aislynn said, shooting Louis a sweet smile and completely misreading his frown. “I’ve actually done a lot of pottery before, so I’m sure ours will turn out well.”

Louis tried to muster up a small, reassuring grin in return. 

“Alright islanders!” called an enthusiastic Carla. “And 3...2...1… begin!”

“So, have you ever done pottery before?” Louis heard Juniper chirp from the station beside him. He felt his heart sink slightly at the realization that he had probably positioned himself at the worst station possible; why exactly had he allowed himself to be in the one that happened to be right next to Harry and Juniper?

“Actually, yeah,” came Harry’s low voice, tinged with a hint of wistfulness. In his peripheral vision, Louis could see Harry watching his pottery wheel in concentration, guiding Juniper’s hands so that the clay would be shaped correctly. Louis looked down at his own pottery station, where Aislynn was pretty much carrying the team.

“Nice work!” Louis said, cringing at how unenthusiastic he sounded. Fortunately, Aislynn laughed in response, so he supposed that she was letting him off the hook when it came to actually doing anything. “Maybe… make it a bit taller?” he suggested, trying to give her some direction. 

“You’re doing well,” Louis heard Harry say next to him. “Try to smooth out the lump near your thumb.” There was a pause. “Yeah, that’s good! When I was in New York, I had a lot of friends that were into it. So I tried it a few times, and ended up really liking it. Spent a lot of evenings doing this.” 

And… _really_? Louis hadn’t known this. It had never come up, and the fact that he was only finding out now… Louis’ heart lurched at the thought. 

Juniper said something that Louis didn’t catch. 

“Actually,” Harry replied, chuckling a little, “I had always wanted to try pottery anyway, even when I was in London. But I never really got the chance, so it was really nice to meet all these creative people in New York that introduced me to it.”

Louis felt the tips of his fingers go numb. So Harry had wanted to try pottery. Even when he was in London, in the same city with _Louis_ , living in the same flat.

It shouldn’t have mattered to Louis. Who cared about the fact that his ex had always wanted to try out a new hobby, anyway? 

Regardless, Louis still found himself flashing back to all the times Louis had sat at home, waiting for Harry to reach out to him from all the way in fucking _New York_ , waiting for him to tell Louis about his day, or about his hobbies. All the times other newer, more glamorous people had asked for Harry’s attention — because _of course they would_ , who wouldn’t? — and Harry had obliged, leaving Louis in the dust. To all the times _Louis_ would’ve happily learned about any new hobby Harry had wanted to get involved in, only for him to never even fucking _know_ about it, to never even have heard about these things until years later.

To all the times Louis had slowly distanced himself, slowly pushed Harry away because he had begun to realize that there were more important people in Harry’s life, then. People that maybe Harry would rather spend time with than him.

“Alright, islanders! Time’s up! Ladies, please take off your blindfolds,” Carla announced suddenly. Louis looked down and surprisingly found a nicely-shaped ceramic vase. He gave Aislynn a quick air high five once her blindfold was off, so that his own hands couldn’t be covered in clay. 

He couldn’t resist a peek at the sculpture Harry and Juniper had made. Their vase was beautiful, as well — clearly due to Harry’s efforts as Juniper had made it clear that she was awful at pottery, despite the classes she had taken. 

Harry was still engaged in conversation with Juniper, granting her his full attention. He was nodding along in that earnest, lovely way he did with everyone. It made him feel a bit empty, like maybe he was watching the Harry who had been in New York; the Harry who lived a separate life from him all the way across the world. 

And that hadn’t worked out the first time, had it?

\---

Louis was tired. All he wanted was to climb into bed. And maybe not talk to anyone for the next while. It had been a long day. 

Harry caught him at the top of the stairs, right before he was about to head into the bedroom. “Hey,” he said. “Haven’t seen you all day.”

 _Maybe because you were distracted by everyone fawning over you,_ Louis thought, but didn’t say it out loud. He couldn’t quite meet Harry’s eyes. “Yeah,” Louis replied instead. 

“How are you?” Harry said, leaning against the railing, as if he was settling in for a while. 

Louis blinked at him. His energy had slowly seeped out over the course of the day, made worse every time he’d tried to talk to Harry. He wasn’t really in the mood to engage in conversation anymore. 

Of course, as had become routine already, Juniper chose that moment to walk by. “Hey, Harry,” she said, body twisted away from Louis. It was clear that he wasn’t supposed to be part of this conversation. “Do you want to share a bed?” 

_Figures,_ Louis thought, turning immediately and walking away. He didn’t bother to see if Harry replied. Maybe there was such a thing as being _too_ polite. 

They had been here before. All the nights in New York, when Louis had called, only to hear Harry’s attention get dragged away by someone in the background. Louis knew how it was going to go. He had already spent an adequate amount of time acquainting himself with the feeling, the long drag of misery that plagued him over the months leading up to the breakup. It wasn’t something that he wanted to feel again.

What would stop them from falling into the same pattern? He wondered if he should even have let himself kiss Harry — maybe he should have resisted his feelings in the moment. It felt like he was making it harder on himself. The more he got from Harry, the more he wanted. And that was the problem. 

Perhaps if he didn’t let himself want more, it would hurt less. 

Harry finally walked into the room a moment later, apparently having declined Juniper’s invitation. Louis had already crawled in bed, and upon hearing Harry’s footsteps, closed his eyes.

“Lou?” Harry asked tentatively. Louis tried to keep his breathing relaxed, regular, like he was already asleep.

For a moment, Harry paused, before letting out a resigned sigh. It was only after Harry had padded away to his own bed that Louis exhaled.

It took some time, but Louis eventually managed to fall asleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**@larrystylinsons: why is chad such a chad lol? also get these annoying casa amor girls out of here and give us more louis and harry moments pls #LoveIslandUK**

\---

When Harry passed by him at the kitchen counter the next morning, looking sleep-ruffled and soft, Louis averted his gaze. 

“You make me a cuppa as well?” Harry asked him cheerfully.

Louis continued to look down at his own mug, before shrugging loosely. “Sorry, don’t think I put in enough water,” he replied, trying his best to sound indifferent. He was absolutely not going to think of that first morning he had spent with Harry back at their original villa, when Harry had made him a cup of tea perfectly suited to Louis’ taste. Nope, not at all. 

He heard Harry pause briefly, before he gave a soft, slightly awkward laugh. “Guess you’re right, I’ll have to ask you earlier next time,” he said, voice suddenly unsure. 

Harry reached for the kettle, and filled it up at the sink before pivoting to face Louis, a hand on his hip. He grinned, seeming to regain a bit more of his optimistic spirit when he gestured towards Zayn, who was coming out of the workers’ tent, looking tired. 

“So, you see the new massive bruise on Zayn’s neck yesterday?” he asked, smirking a bit. 

Louis pushed out a laugh, kicking himself at how forced and foreign it sounded even to his own ears. Why was it so hard for him to act normal? Joking about things with Harry suddenly felt like an unfamiliar entity, when yesterday morning it had been completely natural. It didn’t help that in the back of Louis’ mind, he now realized that Harry did this to _everyone_ , made everyone feel like they were in on a secret joke. 

Still, he glanced over at Zayn, noting that the assistant producer _did_ indeed have a sizeable bruise just beneath his right ear and on his collarbone. In the back of his mind, he noted that this would probably be the nail in the coffin for Liam. Zayn was taken, that much was clear, and the amount of hickeys on his neck suggested that that special someone was in town. Louis briefly wondered what type of person they were; a model perhaps, just as attractive as Zayn, or if maybe a less flashy, more laid back type.

“Wow,” Louis said flatly, remembering that Harry had actually been speaking to him. He averted his gaze from Harry, before jerking his head towards the direction of the rooms, where a majority of the other islanders were still preparing for the day.

“Just remembered that I need to check in with Niall about something,” he mumbled, feeling pained when he saw Harry’s frown deepen further. 

As a compromise to himself, Louis dragged up a tiny smile that he directed towards Harry, who was searching his face, trying to puzzle something out. Then Louis fled the kitchen and headed towards the rooms. He would absolutely not think about Harry standing there, empty cup in hand, looking perplexed and disheartened as he watched Louis run away. 

Maybe this wasn’t the best approach. But it was easier than having to pretend like he was alright. It was easier not to fool himself. To rip off the bandaid before he even needed it.

\---

The lights came on much earlier than Louis would’ve liked the next morning. He tiredly blinked his eyes open, feeling lethargic and overall like shit. It was strange; he had always assumed that having an entire bed to himself again would have resulted in a much better night’s rest, but he felt as though he had barely slept for any of the three nights at Casa Amor. 

Fortunately, today was his last day. The islanders would spend most of the morning packing their things, and then they would head back to their original villa after lunch for the grand return ceremony. 

Louis was sure that Denise would be returning to the main villa with them as Niall’s partner, but he couldn’t be sure about Ethan, Chad or Jasper. And frankly, he didn’t really care about who the other lads chose. It was hard enough to keep track of the people he was meeting, much less who was cracking on with who.

Louis rubbed his eyes. If Casa Amor was almost over, that meant he didn’t have much more time on _Love Island_ , either. Even if he wasn’t eliminated until the finale, he only had a few more weeks, tops. And after all of this was over, he would be going home, living out his five seconds of fame, maybe getting some promotional deals out of it. Then, it would be off to law school in Manchester. 

As for Harry… Harry would be going home, too, back to his bakery. In London. After his five seconds of fame, too, that was — or, in Harry’s case, maybe ten seconds of fame. Louis had no doubt that the viewers back home were loving Harry.

Nonetheless, they would be going home. Back to their lives. Gone would be the days that they would see each other day and night. Perhaps he’d be okay, then, without Harry’s laugh, Harry’s smile, the gentle reminders of _Harry_ all the time. 

He’d back himself away from the edge of the cliff and get on with his life. 

“Lou, get packing!” called Carla, interrupting Louis’ spiralling thoughts. She really was like their nanny, sometimes. He barely even had anything to pack, as it wasn’t like there was much to bring besides swim trunks.

A few hours later, Louis was back in his usual window seat in the van. He had finished packing much quicker than most of the other islanders, and so had been able to take dibs on his seat of choice. 

Harry had approached the van next, and looked at Louis hesitantly before choosing to take the seat behind him, so that now they were sitting together awkwardly, the silence deafening as the tension in the air thickened. They were back to square one. And it had been Louis’ doing. Just like it always had been. Louis felt his heart sink. 

_No regrets_ , was what they had both said. But he shouldn’t have gotten himself tangled in something that was bound to be ruined in the first place. 

“Ay lads, how ya doin’?” Niall called out as he approached the van. Not for the first — or even hundredth — time, Louis felt grateful that Niall was here with him, even after all these weeks. It was unlikely that he would have survived being on the show this long if Niall hadn’t been around. 

Niall climbed into the seat next to Louis, quickly gauging the atmosphere in the van before turning to Louis and giving him a firm squeeze on the knee. A few minutes later, the rest of the lads arrived, and the driver began the journey back to the original villa. 

\---

“15-minute break, that’s all you get,” the driver called an hour later, when they stopped at a gas station. Louis stepped out of the car, shaking out his legs and doing a bit of stretching. He had to admit, he preferred it when the driver gave instructions instead of Carla. Mainly because the driver ordered them around like he didn’t particularly care whether the lads actually followed his rules or not. 

A few metres away, the second van that held the crew members pulled up. The Casa Amor girls were probably already back at the villa, having left an hour before the boys to give them time to prepare for the reunion scene.

Harry stepped out of the van with his sunglasses on. There was a small furrow in his brows, but Louis couldn’t tell if it was a sign that Harry was contemplating something or a sign of discomfort. His lips were curved down into a tiny frown, and Louis stared at him, frozen, before deciding to walk in the opposite direction of the van. Casually. Louis was cool, he was _so_ cool, everything was fine. 

He tried to slow down his steps, to make sure he wasn’t acting suspicious, when he heard the crunch of gravel behind him, indicating that Harry was walking towards him. Painfully, Louis was reminded of their first day off from filming, when Harry had been following him.

“Lou, stop,” Harry said, confirming Louis’ suspicions. His voice was low, marked with a sharp edge of agitation that instantly made Louis feel fidgety and alert. Harry rarely used that tone of voice. 

Louis stopped and slowly turned around, his heart beating far too quickly. There was Harry, face lovely and tired and drained, his wild curls held back against the breeze loosely by a headband, standing against the sun. His mouth was drawn in a stony line. 

To people who didn’t know him, Harry seemed to always have a calm demeanor, and he looked like a person who wouldn’t let things get to him. But Louis knew that, Harry, like everyone, had a breaking point.

“Harry,” Louis replied, his voice a few notes higher than it normally was. He wondered if it gave his nerves away, the way he was pressing his hands into his trouser pockets to prevent his hands from trembling.

They were only five feet away from each other, but the frustrated intensity in Harry’s eyes was palpable even where Louis was standing. His fists were clenching and unclenching, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them. Finally, he made an aborted gesture, like he wanted to reach out to Louis, but stopped himself halfway. A beat passed before he swallowed instead, Louis’ eyes automatically tracking the movement without his permission. 

“We need to talk about this,” Harry said gingerly, like he was worried Louis was going to run. Which, now that he thought about it, was accurate. Louis very much _did_ want to run. Far, far, away; preferably all the way back home so he could hide in bed and pretend that this was all just some wacky, fucked up dream.

“Talk about what?” For a moment, Louis was startled at how collected, how _indifferent_ he sounded. Uncomprehending, like he didn’t care. A total contrast to the fire of Harry’s emotions right in front of him.

It didn’t go unnoticed. Harry stared at him for a moment, looking as bewildered as Louis felt. Then he shook his head raggedly, dropping his eyes to the ground in a moment of still, quiet reflection, before looking up to face Louis in what could only be an expression of betrayed anguish. 

“What’s your _problem_?” Harry demanded, exasperation loud and clear. 

“What problem,” Louis said, voice brittle. After seeing Harry’ reaction, any semblance of the calm he’d had before was now broken.

Harry took a step forward. “You’ve been avoiding me almost the entire time we’ve been in Casa Amor.”

Louis felt a flash of surprise at the unexpected confrontation. It wasn’t something Harry had ever done; hadn’t ever been in his nature. Yet here he was, standing in front of Louis, hurt clouding his expression, demanding an explanation. 

When they had dated, Harry had never been this forthright. Although there had been attempts — _hey, I called you twice last night? —_ they had both avoided directly mentioning it. It had become a new normal for them, how Louis had begun to avoid his messages, to decline his calls. How Louis had started to shut him out gradually. Instead of talking about it, they had let it drag on until any healthy communication had petered out completely, until Harry had finally decided to pull the plug. Because by then, there had barely been a relationship left to salvage. 

And so he could never have anticipated that they would be here now, Harry standing in front him, a hurt in his eyes that Louis hadn’t seen before, demanding an explanation. 

If Harry had confronted him the first time, Louis didn’t know what he would have said, two years ago in his dingy London apartment with bad wifi connection. And he definitely didn’t know what to say now. 

Around them, the gas station employees were watching with poorly concealed interest, some with concern and others with fascination. Louis was glad that at least, they were out of earshot from the cast and crew. 

He knew that if they stayed here for any longer, the feelings that he had been trying to push down would bubble to the surface, slowly but surely before inevitably overflowing. And that wasn’t something he had prepared for. He hadn’t been prepared for the possibility of confronting Harry like this, of confronting _himself_ , and whatever he had been thinking or feeling in the past few days.

How could he even put it into words? The way he felt around Harry, half the time completely head over heels and the other half like things were doomed from the beginning. The way his heart twisted in and of itself when he saw Harry talk to new people, how it wasn’t quite jealousy and more of a deep ache. The way Harry made Louis feel _confused_ , and he was probably being a fucking idiot, but still. 

So he stayed silent, throat choked by his own emotions. There was only so much he could say right now, and did it all even really matter? Going into it would mean having to dig up their past, and was that even worth bringing up? 

After a long beat, Harry seemed to have realised that Louis wasn’t going to offer anything. 

Disbelief flickered across Harry’s features so, so quickly, before his face dropped into a contrite smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth. 

Louis’ heart sank, seeing Harry like this, like all the energy had been sucked out of him until he had been entirely depleted. And _Louis_ was the one who had caused it. 

“You know what, Lou?” Harry said, almost to himself. He shook his head. He was barely speaking in a whisper, but Louis felt like he could hear every syllable, every _gasp_ in clear, sharp, focus. The air between them was tense, full of static, as he waited for Harry’s next words. Any moment now the lightning would strike, each painful second of anticipation bearing painfully, inevitably onwards. 

“That was always the problem. You never actually told me what the fucking issue was. And then you’d go around pretending like everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t,” Harry paused, inhaling a shaky breath. “I’ve been trying, but what the hell am I supposed to do when you’re always pulling away? When you can’t even share things with me? I keep wondering if it's the cameras, but then I remember that even beforehand, you never talked to me.”

Static buzzed in Louis’ ears as he stood stunned, speechless. Things were moving too quickly, too fast, and Louis hadn’t even had time to process any of the words Harry had said. They’d come at him like a tsunami wave, no longer contained, the pressure too strong. Under Harry’s weighty, unwavering gaze, Louis felt as if his entire body would crumble with the weight of everything he was feeling but couldn't verbalize. 

A second stretched into a million years as the silence hung in the air, heavy and thick, until a voice from the corner of the parking lot attracted their attention. “Harry! Louis!” a producer called, pulling them away from the weight of the moment. “Back in the van!” 

Harry shook his head one last time, a gesture so small it would have been unnoticeable to anyone else, before turning around and walking back slowly to the van. Behind Harry, Zayn was sporting a small frown on his face as he took in the tension between them, with Carla watching the three of them with raised brows from where she was standing next to her van. 

As he watched Harry’s retreating back, Louis’ feet remained glued to the ground. With the _Love Island_ crew milling everywhere, frenzied surroundings rushing around him — he didn’t know how to process Harry’s explosive words, that he seemed to have been holding back for so long. For some reason, he felt distinctly as if he was watching Harry walk away from him for the second, and maybe final, time. 

And then they were back in the fucking van again. Louis guessed that this van had probably seen more than any van should. If this van were a living, breathing creature, it would probably have yelled at them to get their shit together. 

The atmosphere in the car was stifling, oppressive. Louis felt limited by the four walls of the vehicle, a box where he couldn’t really say anything that he wanted. And seeing how they were about to jump back into the villa, that was how it was going to be. 

Louis chanced a peek at Harry. Next to Niall, Harry was staring out the window, deep crease between his brows like he was solving a complex maths problem. Louis didn’t need to look around to know that the other lads were glancing at them cautiously, sensing that something was off. Niall kept shooting Louis worried glances, fidgeting as if he wanted to ask Louis what had happened. No one spoke. 

For such a heated conversation, it might have been the worst time for it to have happened. As they drove, Louis was suddenly reminded that the villa reunion was about to begin.  
  
Louis groaned to himself. The last thing he wanted to do right now was walk into the villa, thoughts racing in his head, while everyone’s eyes were on him, including all the viewers at home. 

_You’d go around pretending like everything was fine when it really wasn’t._

_What the hell am I supposed to do when you’re always pulling away?_

Like a pulsing fly, Harry’s words buzzed around in Louis’ head, incessant and unrelenting and _constant_ , even as they reached the villa and began preparing for their reunion with the original female islanders.

Before Louis had a chance to even think about speaking to him, Harry was whisked away. Suddenly, Louis found himself alone in a room, waiting for his turn to enter the villa again and to couple up with Eleanor. 

_What did he mean?_ Louis wondered to himself, for the hundredth time in the past hour. His brain was on overdrive from his emotions, from the messy thoughts running through his head. _That was always the problem,_ Harry echoed in his ears.

There was no time for him to make sense of any of it. This was definitely not the time to be thrust in front of the cameras again, not all his thoughts needed to be untangled. Everything needed to slow down. For a few hours, at least. 

A small knock on the door indicated that it was almost his turn to walk out. Ethan, Chad and Jasper had already finished their reunions. And it was a big deal, this reunion, Louis knew. But at the moment, the show felt like it was in a separate world now, just another hurdle he had to get through while he resolved what had happened between him and Harry. 

“Louis, time for you to head out,” said Zayn when the door finally opened. Zayn looked at him for a moment with consideration before adding, “Hey, you alright?” 

The question was enough for Louis to finally stand up and offer him a small nod. As he made his way out, Zayn clapped him once on the back, seeming to accept Louis’ lack of response as an indication that he was ready to get a move on, to bring himself back to reality again. Which he was.

He approached the villa doors, where he was told by a crew member to stay until they gave him a signal. And a minute later, as he walked through the doors and down the wooden steps, he wondered what the hell his life had become.

The islanders were all sitting around the firepit, with Eleanor the only one standing. Chad and Jasper were in their respective couples, both of them having chosen new girls, while Ethan had stuck with his original partner. A row of new, unfamiliar guys stood with their backs to Louis, and Caroline Flack stood next to them, gesturing behind her as Louis walked towards the group.

“Louis!” Caroline exclaimed, beaming. Louis returned her grin, and gave her a small hug before looking at Eleanor, who was doing a very convincing job of pretending that she was relieved and ecstatic to see Louis again.

“Welcome back! You have decided to stay single during your time in Casa Amor. Do you think you’ve made the right decision?” Caroline asked, as Louis glanced at the people around the firepit. Everyone was staring at him. 

_Do you think you’ve made the right decision_? Louis hesitated, and wasn’t it funny that Caroline had a knack of asking exactly the right questions, even if they didn’t necessarily pertain to him and Eleanor? All Louis could think of was Harry — what _was_ the right decision?

Caroline’s smile became slightly forced as she waited for Louis’ delayed response, and it was only then that Louis remembered, _shit,_ there was no place for his scrambled thoughts right now. He was on air right now, and Eleanor was depending on him. 

“Of course,” Louis said grandly, dragging up a foreign grin from deep inside him. It felt empty. He looked at Eleanor, who was beaming on the surface, hands clasped in front her as she smiled for the cameras. But upon making eye contact with her, he could tell there was a glint of worry in her eyes and that she had caught onto Louis’ weird demeanor. God, even Eleanor knew something was up. Louis hoped that at least the cameras wouldn’t pick up on it. 

He joined the other islanders sitting around the firepit, giving Eleanor a chaste kiss before settling down beside her as they prepared to watch the rest of the recouplings. And although Louis knew he had to look politely interested for the sake of the cameras, his mind was still in disarray. Harry’s upset face was all he saw. _I’ve been trying._

_Do you think you’ve made the right decision_? Caroline echoed in his mind.

His facial expressions were on autopilot, something he seemed to have mastered in the last few weeks. Though his body was present, he didn’t feel like he was fully there, like he was watching himself from a distance as his mind reeled. It was only when Liz and Nora stood up that Louis paid attention again, as he registered that Niall was about to enter the villa with Denise. Louis’ concern for his friend was enough to momentarily bring him back to reality. This, he cared about. He felt himself tense in anticipation.

“Liz,” Caroline began, glancing back and forth between her and Nora. “You were originally coupled up with Niall, and have decided to stay single for him. Nora — you were originally with Jasper, and _also_ decided to stay single for Niall. Do you ladies think that Niall stayed single for you?”

Louis automatically kept his gaze on the ground, willing himself to not give anything away like Carla had asked him to. But God, it was hard. Eleanor kept sending him probing glances, and from the corner of his eye he could see Ethan avoiding everyone’s gaze, as well. Louis had just been about to look for Harry’s expression when he caught himself, heart sinking. Right — not only had Harry not even entered the villa yet, but they also weren’t on great terms.

“I hope so. I’m fookin’ stressed, but Niall and I had a great connection, and I have decided that I am willing to put my heart on the line for this,” Liz replied, shooting Nora a decidedly condescending glance before turning to Caroline again. 

Nora audibly huffed in response, crossing her arms. “I feel the same,” she said. Somewhere on set, Louis was pretty sure that Zayn was dying at this whole fiasco.

“Right. Well, if Niall comes back single and chooses one of you, then one of you ladies will have him all to yourself. But,” Caroline paused dramatically, “if he comes back with another girl, both of you ladies will officially be single.”

At Caroline’s solemn words, the tension in the air automatically thickened. Caroline looked directly into one of the cameras as she announced, “Let’s see what Niall decided.”

As if on cue, all of the islanders turned towards the villa doors, which were opening ever so slowly. And when Niall emerged hand-in-hand with Denise, the audible gasps from the original female islanders were enough to make Louis momentarily forget _everything._ But his heart reached out for his friend, noting how Niall was visibly nervous. Denise, to her credit, grinned broadly, completely unruffled by Nora and Liz, who had been stunned into silence. 

“Welcome back, Niall,” Caroline said into the stillness. “I see you’ve decided to pair up with Denise. Do you think you’ve made the right choice, knowing that Nora and Liz waited for you?”

For a moment, Niall looked tense, before Louis saw him take a breath and squeeze Denise’s hand. Louis was amazed at the transformation he saw in Niall, the way he had gone from nervous to confident within seconds with Denise by his side. 

“Liz and Nora are great girls,” Niall said, without a beat of hesitation. “But if there’s anything I’ve learned about being on _Love Island_ so far, it’s that love is messy. There are all these other things to consider when you start falling for someone, but if that person is right, you have to choose them regardless,” Niall said, as candidly as Louis had ever heard him. 

“And when you meet that person who’s _right_ for you, you need to be willing to be vulnerable. You have to let them know that you want them, regardless of what other people might think,” he added, directing his gaze at Louis. It was for a moment so short that Louis thought maybe he imagined it, if not for the deliberate way he had looked at him. 

Then Niall turned back to Denise, grinning broadly. “And I think I’ve found that with Denise. We’re still getting to know each other, but I went with my gut.”

All around the firepit, the islanders clapped enthusiastically, with Nora and Liz staring at Niall in astonishment. And Louis’ heart swelled with pride for his friend, happiness for the decision he had chosen. He couldn’t help but clap a little louder than everyone else, shooting Niall a quick thumbs up before his friend sat down.

“Congratulations,” Caroline said, directing a look of respect towards Niall once the applause had died down. “Now, for our final pair. Lainey, please stand up.” 

Lainey rose from the bench, smoothing out her dress before stepping forward. Louis’ heart caught in his throat when he realized that Harry would be coming out of the villa doors any moment. _Harry._ He clasped his hands together to stop them from quivering ever so slightly. 

“I really liked Harry, and I still think he’s a wonderful person,” Lainey said, restlessly twisting her hands together. “But during our time together, I didn’t think he was present with me one hundred percent,” she added, and Louis recalled her statement from a few days ago. “And so, I’ve decided to choose one of the new boys, Adam.” 

Louis froze. _What_? Lainey had chosen another islander. _Lainey_ had chosen someone new. What was going to happen to Harry, then?

If Harry didn’t choose Lainey… or anyone else, for that matter — there would be a likely chance that he would get kicked off the show. The realization hit Louis like a shocking blow as Caroline announced Harry’s entrance into the villa. 

It was like slow motion to Louis.The villa doors opened and Harry was there, gorgeous and tanned and lovely as usual. Except right now, there was resignation written across his face, like he already knew what the outcome of this would be. He was alone.

Louis couldn’t look away as Harry strolled into the villa. Lainey, on the other hand, held an expression of appropriate mortification at having been the person in their coupling to have chosen someone new. Harry turned his gaze towards Caroline — who herself looked astonished to see Harry single — then he finally shifted his head back towards where Louis sat. 

Harry’s gaze was calculated as he ran his eyes over Louis and Eleanor, examining their closeness, the way she still had her hand on Louis’ wrist. Beside Louis, Eleanor shifted uncomfortably, evidently having noticed how Harry was studying them.

And while everyone else in the villa seemed confused as to what Harry was doing, Louis knew. Louis was the only one there who could see how _exhausted_ Harry looked, who knew exactly what had happened during those brief fifteen minutes at the gas station. 

Those fifteen minutes had been a reprieve of their constant surveillance for the past few weeks, a chance for a rare, unfiltered conversation, and Louis hadn’t been able to say anything. 

“Hello,” Harry said, voice huskier as usual. There was a shaky edge to his smile, something that Louis couldn’t quite place.

“Harry,” Caroline announced, sounding like she was at a loss of words after having seen Harry’s solo entrance. “You’re single, and as you can see, Lainey has decided to pair up with one of the new boys. How do you feel?” 

Harry shifted from one foot to the other, a motion so imperceptible that most people wouldn’t have caught it. But to Louis, it was evident that Harry was nervous. Louis hadn’t seen Harry this uneasy since coming out to his grandparents at nineteen. For Harry, that had been a big decision back then. 

“Actually, if it’s alright, I’d like to make an announcement,” Harry responded firmly, displacing Caroline’s question completely. Louis’ mind began racing once more. _What announcement_? he thought to himself, confused. The other islanders looked equally lost. 

Caroline nodded, eyebrows scrunched in puzzlement, as Harry pursed his lips, clasping his hands behind his back. 

“First of all, I want to say that it’s been really nice being on this show,” Harry began. Louis’ pulse quickened. Whatever Harry was about to say, it sounded final. Harry looked undeterred, like he had made a decision, and was committing to it. 

A beat passed before Harry took a measured breath. “But after spending time in Casa Amor, I’ve decided that it’s time for me to leave the show,” he declared.

Time went still. There was silence as everyone in the villa took in the information in collective astonishment. Louis could feel Eleanor’s hand instinctively tighten around his wrist. 

And Louis couldn’t take his eyes off Harry, body going close to numb as his brain frantically tried to process Harry’s words, the decision that he had just made. _Why?_ Louis wanted to demand as Harry’s steady eyes held his, locked onto him like they had been this entire time. 

After a brief moment of shock, Caroline finally found her voice. “Well, that’s a surprise. And why are you deciding to leave after Casa Amor?” she asked, glancing back and forth between Harry and Carla, who Louis assumed was frantically pacing behind the firepit off to the side, where she wouldn’t be seen by the cameras.

Harry glanced at Caroline for a second, before his eyes returned to rest on Louis’. Louis could tell that Harry was considering his answer carefully, but his green eyes were calm, clear. 

“Well, it’s about someone I have feelings for,” Harry said in a soft voice, as if the entirety of the UK wasn’t privy to this conversation. This couldn’t be happening. On national fucking television. _God, Harry. What are you doing?_

“I came to _Love Island_ for a new start, maybe to find someone new if I was lucky,” Harry continued, voice cracking ever so slightly. He looked down towards the ground for a moment, before raising his head again, this time appearing like he was on the verge of tears. From his position on the bench, Louis yearned to reach out to Harry. Instead, he stayed, frozen as the air constricted around his neck. 

Harry was shaking his head, chuckling to himself. “I was trying to move on from someone in my past, but I can’t do that. And it made me realize that being on this show, looking for someone new, isn’t what I want for myself anymore,” Harry concluded, lashes clumped together as he let out a wet laugh.

Louis couldn’t breathe, blood pulsing in his ears. Within him, he could feel the remainder of the facade he had built crumble, just like how his heart was shattering into a million tiny fragments, scattering onto the ground in front of him. 

Harry had been trying to move on from him, even after all this time. And now, here he was, admitting to everyone in the villa, to thousands of people back home, that he had never really been able to let go. 

Louis was thirty feet away from Harry, but from here, it still felt as if Harry was right in front of him, holding him with his electric stare. As Louis’ heart raced, Harry’s voice from that afternoon echoed back at him. _I’ve been trying._

A part of Louis wanted to desperately tell Harry to _stay, please._ Another part of him wanted his feet to stay on the ground, for him to keep his mouth shut for the sake of the Louis he had been that afternoon, the Louis who had known that things wouldn’t have worked out, no matter what — two opposing forces that screamed at Louis as his body stayed motionless on the bench, aware of nothing but Harry’s eyes on him. He wanted everyone to leave, all the cameras to shut off, just wanted to stare at Harry and ask, _Why? What are you doing?_ It wasn’t until the islanders began to slowly rise that Louis realized Harry was done speaking. 

Slowly, each islander approached him, sorrow surrounding them as everyone came forward to say their goodbyes. Louis felt himself leave his seat, dazed. He was conscious of his legs following the other islanders, yet a part of him felt dead inside, like everything was happening in front of him, in slow motion, but he wasn’t truly a part of it. Harry was leaving the island. Because of him.  
  
He was aware of Niall gently pulling him into a hug. For someone who wasn’t the one leaving, it was a hug that lasted a lot longer than it should have. “You should say something,” Niall murmured, voice more quiet than a whisper, before he let go.

Louis didn’t know what he could say. So he stood, immobilized, watching as everyone gathered to say their own goodbyes to Harry, feeling impossibly helpless. 

\---

Whenever an islander was eliminated, they had an hour to pack and say their goodbyes. That meant one hour until Harry would be sent to the van and out of the villa forever. And out of Louis’ life, too, probably.

The other islanders had spent a good amount of time stating their farewells, before finally leaving Harry to gather his belongings in peace. And then there was Louis, frantically thinking about what to say to Harry, whether Harry even _wanted_ him to say anything, and what all of this meant. 

It was hard to process things in one hour. It was even harder when Louis had reached the emotional equivalent of being run over by a truck. Multiple times. Harry had said he hadn’t moved on from Louis. But now he was leaving the show, leaving Louis behind. What was Louis supposed to make of that? 

Twenty minutes before the driver was due to arrive, Louis finally made his way towards the bedroom. There was Harry, quietly tucking the last of his clothes into his suitcase with a level of concentration that only Harry would have. For a moment, Louis watched him with a sad fondness in his chest. It took a while before Harry noticed him at the door and looked up.

Louis felt fragile, unsure. “Hi,” he said. 

“Hi,” Harry said.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Louis said hesitantly, taking a step forward. 

Harry chuckled quietly. “Well, maybe I did have to. For me.” He was looking down at the floor. 

There was a pause as Louis contemplated how to answer. Now it was Louis trying to read Harry, and _Harry_ was choosing to shut him out. Everything had changed.

On the other side of the wall, a sudden argument erupted, pierced by hollers and screeches from… _Nora and Liz?_ Louis thought that he heard Niall’s apologetic voice interspersed between the yells. 

“I’m gonna miss that,” Harry called out, speaking more loudly to cover the voices from the other room. He was gesturing towards the direction that the voices were coming from, but there was a level of sincerity and intensity in his gaze that told Louis that perhaps he was talking about something else. Harry’s gaze didn’t waver.

_I don’t want you to go,_ Louis wanted to say. After the last couple days of withdrawing from the situation, Louis realized that he should have felt some sort of relief to it ending. But all he wanted was for more time, not a mere measly minute before Harry was going to inevitably leave and return to London. While Louis would stay here, a thousand miles away. 

But “I’ll miss it too,” was what Louis settled with, too softly for Harry to hear. 

“Harry, van’s here,” Carla shouted from down the hall. There was a large amount of scuffling close by as the islanders headed to the main villa doors to wave goodbye. And Harry zipped up his luggage, standing up before facing Louis one last time.

Louis wasn’t sure what he was expecting. For Harry to ignore him, perhaps. Maybe just a short smile in response. What he wasn’t expecting was for Harry to let go of his luggage to give Louis a brief hug.

It had always been Harry’s arms that made Louis feel the most secure. He squeezed his eyes shut as Harry held him, a bittersweet feeling mounting within him. And although the embrace lasted for perhaps less than a second, Louis still felt as though the moment stretched for hours; like maybe the words they had left unspoken could be sensed through the touch alone.

And then Harry was heading towards the group and the door, and Louis watched him leave once again. A part of Louis wanted to run down the hall after Harry, chase him and tell him that maybe they were wrong, maybe this was all a mistake.

But he couldn’t do that. Especially not here, not now.

Still, Louis found it hard to shake off the increasing mountain of disappointment and regret as he waved Harry off along with the rest of the islanders, as if the relationship he had with Harry had been the same as what Harry had had with anyone else. 

As he headed back into the house, with Niall’s hand on his back, Louis had a sense that those feelings would stay with him, for a long, long time.


	12. Chapter 12

**@roxtco: WHAT THE FUCK HARRY I’M….. WHAT JUST HAPPENED. WHO THE FUCK IS THAT BOY IN LOVE WITH #LoveIslandUK**

**_In reply to @roxtco:_ **

**@jikookboyinluv: right??!? sksksks bet that person is crying on their sofa right now**

\---

The next morning, Louis woke up, hazy from dreams that had been filed with unrecognizable figures and shadows. There was a moment where he had been suspended in the sleepy dimness of the early morning, before the reality of yesterday came crashing down on him.

 _Fuck_. He checked his phone, finding that he had maybe a few more minutes before the lights turned on, and Louis groaned inwardly. He wasn’t ready. Wasn’t ready for the day to officially begin again, for the filming to resume, for the drama and the spectacle to start again, because Harry wasn’t here. Harry had left.

And Louis felt like utter _shit_ , hadn’t slept the entire night, and couldn’t shake the feeling of loss and emptiness that had plagued him ever since last night. 

The whole thing felt surreal. And not in the good way, either. 

Shaking his head, he sluggishly crawled out of bed, nodding mutely at Eleanor before making his way towards the kitchen for his morning cuppa. Eleanor watched him with wide, worried eyes as he left the room, constantly appearing as though she was on the edge of saying something before promptly pursing her lips and looking away. It figured. Louis hadn’t ever known Eleanor to bite her tongue, which meant that Louis’ situation must’ve looked bad enough that it was even alarming _her_ , of all people. 

Louis hadn’t seen his own reflection yet, but he was becoming more and more certain that he looked exactly the same as he felt: awful. 

The trend continued when Louis walked past Ethan and Jasper, who, for the first time, had woken up earlier than Louis. They had already started their workout session, and glanced at him briefly as they continued to do push-ups. Meeting Louis’ eyes, Ethan gave him a small wave but promptly stopped when he took in Louis’ state of dishevelment. Even Jasper was apparently stunned enough to keep his mouth shut. Fuck.

Louis started the kettle and leaned against the counter, staring off into the space in front of him. The area felt weirdly void without Harry, like something was missing. Harry should’ve been at the counter with him, teasing him about already having had his second cuppa of the day, or making small comments about Zayn’s hair. 

_You go around pretending like everything is fine when it isn’t_. 

Things weren’t fine. Not even a bit.

But it would pass, right? Louis had done this before, two years ago. He would have to do it again. He’d just have to spend a little more time thinking about everything. Thinking about Harry, about them. 

Shit. Louis shook his head to himself, feeling more confused than ever. What was _wrong_ with him? It wasn’t like he and Harry had broken up again, they had barely even had any alone time together, much less discuss whatever ‘they’ had been.

Even if maybe a part of Louis wished they had discussed it. Wished that he had been able to think more quickly about whether he should’ve run after him, leave all this _Love Island_ stuff behind. 

\---

Louis knew that they were being filmed. He _knew_. And yet, the turmoil was starting to feel like it was eating him alive, and what was he supposed to do? 

A long time ago, Liam had suggested he talk about it, talk about whatever had happened between him and Harry. And although Louis had brushed off his suggestions back then, a part of him now thought that maybe his best friend had been onto something. 

He was going to have to just do it, even if the thought sent a prickle of discomfort through his body. He just had to talk to someone, see if maybe they could help him sort through the mess that had been plaguing his mind. 

He found Niall sitting at the pool alone, looking pensive as he stared at the water in front of him. Louis approached him hesitantly, wondering what he could even say to start the conversation. At the sounds of Louis’ footsteps, Niall turned around, seeming unsurprised.

“Hey Louis,” he greeted him. Although the words were cheerful, they both knew that there was nothing pleasant about the situation, at least for Louis. 

“Hey,” Louis replied, and if his voice was quieter than usual, the audience would probably attribute it to the drowsiness he was feeling from the sun. He took a seat next to Niall, and they were silent for a while, dangling their feet in the water.

Right. So if he wanted to talk, he could talk. He just had to do it cryptically. 

“How are you?” Louis asked, keeping his gaze focused on the scenery directly in front of him. 

For the event that had just happened in the villa, it was too mundane of a question, too casual. So Louis understood when Niall looked at him for a second before responding. “I’m alright. You?”

“I’m alright,” Louis said, words clipped, trying to sound nonchalant. He took a small breath. “How are you feeling about yesterday?” 

Niall turned his body towards him attentively, like he was catching on to what Louis maybe wanted to discuss. “I don’t know. I mean, I really like Denise.” He paused, seriously contemplating the words that he had just said. “Is that weird?” 

At Niall’s naivety, Louis had to smile. Based on Niall’s relationship history, it was clear to Louis that this could possibly have been the first time Niall had ever truly liked somebody, for real. “That’s not weird,” Louis reassured him. “I can tell you really like her.”

“Do you think she likes me, though?” Niall mused out loud. “It’s so weird. I mean, we’ve literally only known each other for a few days.” 

Well, that was true. But then again, Niall obviously hadn’t seen the sheer number of fond smiles Denise had been shooting his way all day. “Niall, that girl likes you, even if you guys have only known each other for a bit. You have a connection, you just have to believe in it.”

Niall grinned bashfully, shaking his head slightly before turning to face Louis, his expression marked with an edge of caution. 

“So yesterday was kind of strange, huh?” Niall said, tone mild for someone that was supposedly just discussing yesterday’s events for the sake of it. 

Louis glanced at him. “Yeah,” he said, holding Niall’s gaze. “I’m not really sure what to make of it.”

Niall scooted closer. “Yeah.” 

There was a brief silence that hung in the air. Louis looked away, staring at the pool as he gathered his thoughts. He wasn’t sure what he even wanted to ask, only that he knew he had to say something to someone, to be honest. And Niall would have his back either way.

Niall touched his foot to Louis’ inconspicuously, prompting Louis to direct his gaze back at his friend. 

“What about you?” Niall asked softly, before shifting his eyes around him to look out for cameras and other islanders. His eyes remained fixed at the lounge area, where a group of islanders including Denise and Eleanor were watching them curiously. Probably because, even from afar, their conversation looked more serious than usual.

And although this conversation felt too private, too intimate to be aired for the entertainment of the entire UK, Louis found that for once, he couldn’t really bring himself to care.

“I don’t know,” Louis said, drawing his gaze down to his toes in the water. 

They sat in silence for a minute before Niall spoke. “I don’t know much about them, but I _do_ know relationships can be… difficult,” he said, deliberately keeping his words vague. “Especially with distance,” he added. “But with Denise, I remember thinking… could it really be so bad? To just go for what I want, just this once?”

He looked over at Louis earnestly, his gaze serious before he cracked a small smile. Louis sometimes forgot that Niall was a lot more introspective and thoughtful than people gave him credit for.

“I mean, it’s not always that simple, I guess?” Louis replied. Why did everything have to be so complicated? All he knew was that just a few days ago, Louis had actually felt _happy_. He had felt excited in a way that he hadn’t for years, and now there misery was weighing him down. And the only difference was that Harry wasn’t around anymore.

Niall was silent for a while. “You know what my nan told me, once? When I wanted to go for music but also wanted to go to school at the same time?”

Louis didn’t know why Niall’s nan had suddenly entered the conversation. He glanced at him. “What did she say?”

Niall looked at him solemnly, as if he had all the wisdom of an old grandpa. Or, Louis supposed, all the wisdom of his grandma. 

“She said that the hardest decisions are between two equally good things, or two equally bad things. Otherwise, your choice should be clear.” 

At that, Louis couldn’t help but curve his lips up into a smile because, _honestly_ , what a piece of fortune-cookie type wisdom. 

Louis allowed the words to sink in. Niall’s nan wasn’t wrong. 

As he compared his options, it was becoming more obvious that he didn’t have two bad options; he had the possibility having Harry, or not. And one alternative was better than the other.

It had been two years. Two whole years, since him and Harry had been each other’s halves, two years since Harry had been in New York. And then he had suddenly appeared in Louis’ life again, making the colours seem brighter, the world seem a bit sunnier, the present and future seem a little more exciting. 

_It’s about someone I have feelings for_ , Harry had said, bold and unwavering, in front of all the islanders, all the _Love Island_ staff, all of the _viewers_. 

Harry had put himself out there, and been ready to start a conversation. And Louis — Louis had still been trying to absorb everything, sort out the mess of his emotions, long enough that he had let Harry leave. He had let Harry go back to London alone, without ever having even had a true conversation about _them_. 

He thought back to the long evenings alone in London, turning off his phone earlier and earlier into the night as he tried to avoid the stinging possibility that Harry would forget to call him. To the times when Harry had _wanted_ to speak with him over Skype, only for Louis to make feeble, hurried, excuses so that he wouldn’t have to deal with the pain that maybe their relationship was falling apart. To the moments when Harry had called, asking again and again if anything was wrong, only for Louis to tell him that no, of course not, everything was fine even though they weren’t.

To the times Louis had maybe given up on them before they had even had a chance to make things work, together. 

There was a large chance things wouldn’t work out. But… Louis wasn’t sure why that had scared him so much, now. Things were already a mess. He already felt like shit. But throughout this entire time, he hadn’t even _spoken_ to Harry about all this, heart to heart, honest and clear. 

_Fuck_. Louis felt suddenly as though the world had been tilted on its axis, only to right itself again in a way changed everything.

And maybe everything _had_ changed.

He could take his chance to possibly have Harry, or he could be without him for sure. The choice seemed pretty clear, from that perspective. _Harry_ was good, the way he brought happiness into Louis’ life when he was there.

Louis had fucked up back then, that much was clear now. Sure, he had been scared. He had been hurt. But at least he should’ve tried to have a conversation, should have let himself be vulnerable around Harry, because. Because, well. Harry had meant so much to him. Still meant so much to him.

Like Niall had said, could things really go so bad?

Harry had even admitted to having feelings for someone, for _Louis_ on live television, and had told Louis that he would miss things when they left. Louis was only now able to accept that Harry had meant _them_ , because of course he had. Harry would miss _them_ when he left. 

Louis had decided not to tell Harry about his honest feelings, and here he was, alone in the fucking villa, feeling like shit, and heartbroken. 

He literally had nothing to lose, not anymore.

“Lou? You good?” Niall asked.

“Niall, you’re right,” Louis breathed, his mind abruptly going into overdrive. He had to call Harry and tell him everything. If it wasn’t too late, that was.

Niall looked momentarily confused, before the realization dawned on his face. He broke into a wide grin, slapping Louis on the back.

“Fuck yeah, that’s what I’m talking about,” he cheered. 

Louis smiled in response, hugged Niall briefly before scrambling to his feet. “Thank you,” he said quietly, before bolting towards the crew worker’s tent. He prayed that Zayn would be there, and not Carla. He needed to explain everything, and if he was lucky, Zayn would let him use his phone one last time to call Harry. At least Zayn knew Harry. Zayn didn’t even know Liam, and he had let Louis call him anyway.

Fuck. Liam. He wondered what Liam would think about all of this, what it would be like for him to watch everything unfold, back home in London. Louis pushed through the entrance of the tent, disappointed to find that the tent was empty, except for a Liam look-alike. Huh. Had Louis seriously missed his best friend so much that he was now hallucinating his presence in the crew workers’ tent? 

Louis did a double take. Wait. That _was_ Liam.

“Payno,” Louis screeched, and Liam turned around in confusion. Upon seeing Louis, his eyes widened in surprise.

“Lou,” Liam yelled, rushing forward. “Oh my God, Lou.”

After everything that had just happened, being in his best friend’s arms was cathartic. Closing his eyes, Louis sunk into Liam’s arms in gratitude and inhaled. Yep, Liam was still wearing his signature Old Spice. The scent burned his nostrils, but it still smelled like home.

“What the fuck are you doing here,” Louis pressed when they broke apart. 

“They brought me in to deal with all the islanders who were being introduced and eliminated in Casa Amor,” Liam said. “God, I wanted to talk to you, Lou. I’ve been worried sick. Are you okay?”

“But… you’ve never done that before,” Louis said, confused. “Like, actually go on-set where the show is. Did you come here for me?” 

“Partially,” Liam hedged, looking awkward. “But also, erm, I wanted to see Zayn.” 

There was a pause as Liam’s words sunk in. Wait, shit. Liam still _didn’t know_. “Liam,” Louis said. “I need to tell you something. You know Zayn, the assistant,” he said, and Liam’s face immediately went red. Oh no. Liam’s crush on Zayn must have been quite strong. Louis was going to have to break it to him gently. 

“I’ve been trying to figure out if he’s been seeing anyone. And I saw that he’s been texting someone recently, a lot?” Louis continued, watching as Liam’s eyes grew wide. Fuck. Poor Liam. “But honestly, he seems kind of lame,” Louis finished quickly. “He just messages him a bunch of sappy monkey emojis. You’re probably better than him.”

“Louis,” Liam hissed, right when Zayn stepped through the tent. “You fucking dolt.”

“Why is Louis here?” Zayn asked. “And why is he a fucking dolt?” He looked between Louis and Liam, far too casual for someone who didn’t know who Liam was. 

Then Liam said, “Louis doesn’t know that we’ve been dating.”

...Hold on. Hold _on. Liam_ was the one Zayn had been texting? 

“What?” Louis exclaimed, and Liam shushed him, frantically peering outside the tent for any passerbys. Louis whipped his head toward Zayn incredulously, who was looking at Liam with pink cheeks. 

“Are we dating?” Zayn asked, and… was Zayn being _shy?_ “I mean, I thought we were,” he said quickly, “but I wasn’t sure. We never really talked about it.”

Liam turned toward Zayn, blush just as obvious. Holy fuck. Holy fucking shit. For a moment, Louis was forgotten. “I mean, yeah,” Liam said. “If that’s okay with you.”

“That’s okay with me,” Zayn said. There was a pause as they both looked at each other with soft eyes. 

Gross. Louis was so here for it, but also not. Also. “Lads,” Louis said, directing both their attention to him. “When the fuck did this happen. I thought you were too scared to talk to him?” Louis directed the last part of his sentence towards Liam, sending him an intrigued look.

In response, Liam shot him an unimpressed glare. Oops. Evidently, Louis hadn’t been meant to bring it up, ever, with Zayn around. Served him right for not telling Louis. “Remember that night when Harry came into the villa? You called me from his phone and handed it back to me. It didn’t take long for me to figure out whose voice it was.”

“Liam was worried about you, and even though I didn’t know what was going on, I gave him updates on how you were doing from time to time,” Zayn chimed in. “And then we just... started talking.”

Oh, God. They were even finishing each other’s sentences. 

“You _gave him my phone number_ ,” Liam emphasized to Louis, like he was genuinely doubting Louis’ intelligence. “Then Zayn pulled some strings since we needed a scout to manage all the contestants in Casa Amor anyway.” 

That made… so much sense. He could practically see the puzzle pieces falling into place when he thought back to everything he’d seen from Zayn. Louis didn’t want to admit how oblivious he’d been to the entire thing, literally anyone else would have figured it out within seconds, except, well. Harry had been the only person who was as invested in the Ziam situation as Louis had been, but he hadn’t known about Louis’ panicked phone call. 

“Well,” Louis choked on a laugh, “I just feel dumb now.” He was happy, so happy for his best friends, and yet the combination of emotions from the day were threatening to overwhelm him. “Harry and I had been trying to set you two up for the past few weeks.”

Leaning against a chair, Liam gave Louis an inquisitive look. “Speaking of. Harry.”

Louis’ heart stopped for a nanosecond. Yes. That was why he was here, in first place. 

He turned to Zayn. “Zayn, I think I’ll need your phone again.” At the curious glances the couple shot him, Louis sighed.

“I’m going to go after him,” he said in a small voice, suddenly feeling sheepish. Zayn widened his eyes as Liam broke into a wide grin. 

“Yeah?” Liam probed, moving in for a second hug. “You’re sure?”

Fuck. Louis was so glad that Liam was here. Just talking to him felt like he could release a whole mountain of tension that he had been holding. “I don’t know,” Louis admitted. “It’s been all a mess, really.”

“It has,” Zayn interrupted, sounding sincere and warm-hearted. “But I think it could be good for you guys to actually talk, when, you know. The producers aren’t around,” Zayn finished his words with a quick scan around the tent, emphasizing the fact that, _right_ , Louis was still technically on the show, still. 

Louis nodded. “That’s actually kind of why I came in here,” he said. “I want to call him, just to maybe talk about everything.”

Zayn paused. “Well, you know… Harry isn’t leaving for London until tomorrow. You could maybe catch him at the hotel if you leave today,” he said. 

Louis stared at him. Fuck, Harry was still in town. He hadn’t left yet. Louis barely had to think about it. 

He was going to do this. He was going to go after Harry. And he wasn’t going to regret it.

He wagged his finger between Zayn and Liam. “Just remember, I’m giving myself credit for this,” Louis announced, before he spun around and left the tent. 

\---

After Harry’s grand exit, it was like nothing surprised Carla anymore. 

After a frenzied explanation of what had happened, Louis planted a teary kiss on Carla’s cheek as he rushed upstairs to pack his luggage. If this had been a movie instead of a reality TV show, this would have definitely been the cheesy ending part. The part Harry had always loved the most.

As Louis descended the staircase with his frantically packed bags, he saw Eleanor in the foyer, staring expectantly. _Fuck._

In the midst of everything, he had forgotten about her, their deal. Shit. This was unfair to her. He scrambled for words, but she held up a hand before he could find anything to say.

“Go,” she said knowingly, and Louis could feel his heart swelling with gratitude. He hadn’t expected to come out of _Love Island_ with friends who supported him in the most drastic decision of his life, but here he was now. The show had surprised him at every corner.

Crossing the foyer, he gave her a peck on the cheek. “You were the best choice I made on this island,” he said, and Eleanor responded with an eye roll. 

“Hopefully you can make a better one off the island,” she responded, swatting his arm. 

Louis winked at her as he stepped out the door, then climbed into the van. 

\---  
  


It took a few raps on the door, but eventually, it opened. Harry was barefoot, a blanket wrinkle crested into his cheek. He looked drained. He looked like shit. But he reeled back as if he’d been hit as he registered Louis in front of his doorway, eyes running up and down him in disbelief. Then he swallowed jerkily, before gesturing for him to come in. 

Silence hung in the air for a long moment as they stared at each other. No questions, no greetings. Just an invitation. 

Stepping inside cautiously, Louis felt fragile as he brushed past Harry into the hotel room, unsure as to whether he was really allowed here. The living area was still kept, the ruffled sheets the only evidence that someone had been living in the room. Then again, Harry had only been here for one night. 

Harry said nothing, simply stood by the door as he watched Louis’ eyes shift around uncertainly. Louis glanced back at Harry, noting that Harry didn’t look exactly ecstatic to see him. But fuck it. He was here to tell Harry how he felt, no matter what. He wasn’t about to back down now. The room held a bed and two chairs, so Louis opted for one of the chairs. Harry trailed after him slowly like a ghost, taking a seat on the bed, a good six feet apart. Louis wished he were closer.

Planting his feet firmly on the ground, Louis tried to make sense of his rattling brain. Despite the weariness in his eyes, Harry’s gaze was still trained carefully on Louis’ face, like he couldn’t look away. God. Harry looked so tired. 

“When you were in New York, I felt ignored,” Louis started, feeling as if he was about to launch into a whole monologue. His words felt like water beginning to seep from a cracked urn that had been contained for too long, slowly until it burst and everything spilled out. “You had a new life, new friends. And that was fine. I mean, there was no way you could go to a new city and not make friends, you know?” He took a pause to gather his breath as Harry remained silent.

“And I was so boring all the time, studying for my degree, living in the same place, barely having a social life. I was the same as always, nothing new or exciting. I understood why you were so caught up by all these new things, because I had nothing new to share with you.” 

“But I felt swept aside,” Louis said, returning to his first point. He rubbed his neck self-consciously, grasping to find the words. “It’s just… You had so many things going on in your life, so many people. It seemed like you were having such a wonderful new life, and I knew that you cared, or I thought you did, but I couldn’t help but think, that if you really cared, then you would have tried to get home on time to call me, you know? You would’ve made an effort.”

“Lou,” Harry said, quiet. 

“But you didn’t,” Louis carried on, because now that he was here, now that he was _present_ , he was on a roll. And he didn’t want to stop, wanted to finally let Harry in, let him know everything about how he had felt. “And it felt like I was just waiting for you to care, and you never did. And that’s why I started pulling away initially, to the point where it was just easier for us to break up.”

A pause, as he took a breath.

“Looking back, I should have told you. But I didn’t know how.”

“Honestly, it was my fault, too,” Harry said, shaking his head. “I should have realized what I was doing. I shouldn’t have believed you when you said it was okay. Because it clearly wasn’t, you know?” 

Eyes trained on the floor, Louis allowed the words to roll back and forth in his mind. 

“I know,” he finally said, once Harry’s words sunk in. “I just didn’t think it was up to me to demand your attention when it didn’t seem like a big deal to you, anyway. So I thought that it shouldn’t have been a big deal to me. That maybe I was l just being too emotional, or too selfish.”

“It was a big deal,” Harry said. “You weren’t a nuisance to me, Louis. But I’m sorry that I treated you like one. I was so dumb, and so caught up in everything new.” His eyes were shining. “I realized that, you know, after we broke up.”

Louis let out a deep breath. For so long, it was Louis who had held the burden on himself. He hadn’t ever thought that maybe, just maybe, it could have been Harry’s responsibility, too. 

“I’m sorry that I was pulling away this week. I realize now that you were trying. But when everyone started vying for your attention, and we just didn’t get that much time together, or God, Harry, we weren’t even allowed to just be _ourselves_ in front of the cameras most of the time...” Louis shook his head. He could hear how his voice was cracking, like a frozen lake under weight. “It just felt like the beginning of us falling apart again. And I just couldn’t deal with that.” 

Tilting his head up at the ceiling, Louis hoped that the tears wouldn’t fall. “It was so painful the first time, for so long. I spent months and nights wondering if you still cared about me. I just didn’t want to relive that again. It was easier to just pull away, to detach my emotions completely.” 

There was a moment where the only sound in the room was Louis’ heartbeat. Then he heard a choking sniffle, and realized that Harry was crying quietly. 

“God, Lou,” Harry said, voice broken. “I wish I had known that you had felt that way.”

Louis thought about all the times he couldn’t bring himself to stop Harry from talking about his friends, about what had happened at school that day for him. “I loved you so much back then, you know?” he voiced aloud. “And I was too scared to tell you. I was too scared to talk to you. I didn’t want to take anything away from the experience you were having.”

Crossing the room, Harry slumped down on the chair next to Louis, shuffling it closer with his feet so that their knees were almost touching. Louis could see the defeated desperation in Harry’s eyes. “Louis. You can’t put me first before your feelings, babe.”

 _Babe._ Just the word shot an emotion of feelings through him. God, Louis missed hearing that word so much. 

“I know,” Louis said, wringing his hands together. “Apparently I’m not so great at reminding myself that my emotions are valid. To me, it wasn’t fair that I couldn’t compromise for you, you know? I thought that I shouldn’t have been feeling this way, and that telling you would be dragging you down with me.”

Harry let out a slight, watery chuckle. “You can’t pull away because you want to stop yourself from feeling things, Lou,” he said, tone soft and fond. “I love you because of how intensely you feel.”

Louis looked up, breath stilted. _I love you,_ Harry had said. So easily, slipping out of his mouth like he hadn’t even had to think about it.

“And isn’t that what a relationship is?” Harry continued. “Compromise? Communication?”

“Communication was hard when we weren’t that good at it from miles away,” Louis said. “I guess that’s why things fell apart.”

Harry gave a small smile. “Well, it’s a good thing we’re here in person so that we can work on it now, innit?” 

“You want that with me,” Louis confirmed, and he wondered if Harry could hear the hope in his voice. 

Harry nodded, no trace of uncertainty in his eyes. “I do. Louis, I wanted this when I saw that you were one of the islanders. I didn’t think I’d sign up for this, but when I got scouted, I thought, hell, why not. Maybe I’d stay for a little bit, just enough to get some exposure for the bakery. But I saw your name, and I couldn’t believe it, you know?” Harry shook his head with a disbelieving chuckle. “First of all, I still can’t believe you actually signed up for this shit.”

“Hey,” Louis said, a wet laugh escaping. “I can’t, either.”

“But,” Harry continued. “I saw your name. Maybe it was stupid, I don’t know. But everything in me was telling me that I had to do it. Or I would regret it.”

Seeing the sincerity in Harry’s eyes felt like an emotional punch in the heart. “I didn’t deserve that,” Louis said. “The fact that you still wanted another chance for us.”

Harry shook his head. “You need to stop thinking about whether you deserve shit, Lou,” he said. “The breakup wasn’t your fault. We were young and bad at communicating. We were both to blame.”

“I thought you would’ve been angry,” Louis whispered. 

“I was, at first,” Harry admitted. “But that was because I didn’t understand what was going on. It took a while before I realized that I had been shit, too. God, we were both really shit.”

Hearing Harry’s words made Louis realize that for years, he had held the belief that Harry had somehow resented him for what he had done. He hadn’t even bothered to consider that Harry, the person who knew him the most, would realize where he was coming from. Would even forgive him. 

For so long, Louis had dwelt in this pool of belief. And now, here was Harry, dismantling the walls that Louis had built out of his own assumptions.

“Yeah,” Louis said, shaking his head. “I suppose a reality TV show where we were both hiding our relationship wasn’t the best place for communication, either. God, who would’ve thought.”

Drawing Louis’ hands into his lap, Harry smiled. “Do you think that the viewers caught on?”

Louis looked at their hands for a moment, intertwined, and warmth curled in his chest. “What, that we were arse over tits for each other?” Louis said, noting how Harry’s smile expanded at the statement. “If the cameras caught it, then I don’t know how they would’ve missed it. Plus, Niall and I may or may not have had a suspicious, cryptic conversation before I left. They’ll figure it out eventually.”

Louis felt a gentle, tight squeeze around his fingers. “I love you,” Harry said, and the words were packed like a soft hit to Louis’ chest. 

“I love you,” Louis said, flutters in his stomach as he said the words for the first time in two years. The first time in two years, and they felt so easy coming out of his mouth, like smooth honey. Like coming home. 

And Harry’s smile grew, blossomed like a flower. His eyes were shining when he said, “I never stopped loving you, you know?” 

And Louis laughed, eyes looking up at the ceiling, because the joy in his heart was too full for his chest. “I didn’t either.” Then he looked down again at Harry, here in front of him. “Are you gonna properly kiss me now?” Louis asked, because those were words that he could say now, for real. “None of that challenge, crowded dressing room shit.”

“Baby,” Harry said smoothly, pulling Louis’ chair even closer until all Louis could see was Harry’s glistening eyes, crinkling with soft joy. “I would’ve kissed you on the first day had they given me the chance.”

Laughing, Louis leaned his head in, finally, _finally_ getting what he had really wanted this whole time.

There were things to do and arrangements to be made. They would need to get on their flight tomorrow. But for now, Louis was content to sit here, in this foreign hotel room, and waste the day away with Harry’s lips on his. 

\---

The downside to being on a reality TV show was that none of them were actually allowed to leave the hotel. Even if Louis wanted to take Harry out to the bar downstairs, have a proper date, there was always the possibility that they’d be spotted. So room service it was. 

But after years of not being together in the same room, it felt like a sanctuary for him to observe the man he loved, sitting right here in front of him. And since they were stuck together, it wasn’t like Harry could very well leave whenever he wanted. Nope, Louis could spend as long as he wanted staring at Harry, the way he grinned bashfully, the light in his eyes, how his lips were still slightly swollen from kisses.

Louis felt himself swell with pride. _He_ had done that to Harry. Not Lainey, not Julia, not fucking Ginger Girl. _Louis_.

Harry was in the middle of reviewing the room service menu when Louis finally decided his patience had run out. 

“Thought you knew how to cook,” Louis said. “ _Professionally_ , even. Why can’t you just order a bunch of produce and cook things up here?”

Harry shot an unamused look at Louis. “You’re right,” he said. “Should do that instead, with the one microwave we have here.”

And Louis smiled, because he was giddy, giddy that he had the opportunity to have this with Harry again. It felt good to tease, to do even the most mundane things with him. To just be here with him. So he bumped his hip into Harry’s, and Harry bumped him back. 

Louis was glad that at least, the producers had had the decency to put Harry in a nice hotel, especially given the dozens of islanders to budget for. A nice hotel meant decent food. A nice hotel, Louis discovered that evening, also meant a fucking nice bathroom.

He whistled upon opening the bathroom door, taking in the spacious area, the marble tiling. “Damn. Reckon I would’ve gotten kicked off sooner if that meant I could take a shower in peace.” 

Coming up behind Louis, Harry eyed the jacuzzi tub. “Do you want to get in that thing?” he asked. The question was voiced without any timidity, but Louis noted the apprehension in Harry’s face as he waited for Louis to answer.

He appreciated Harry’s concern, knew that Harry wouldn’t push him, and was only asking. Nothing about Harry ever made Louis feel like he was being pressured to do something that he didn’t want to do. 

But the thought of Harry close to him, naked underwater — this was something that Louis wanted to do, absolutely. Had been thinking about it ever since their spa day, when Harry had been across from him, the gap between them just wide enough that he hadn’t been able to touch.

“I do,” Louis said, turning his body to face Harry. “Do you?”

Harry held Louis’ gaze as he nodded, slow. “I do.”

God. It was insane how the attraction came back so easily, static pulsing between the gap where their bodies almost touched, but not quite. Like a pull, Louis felt himself reaching for Harry, hands gentle as he reached up for his face.

And just as easily, Harry reciprocated, bending down to catch Louis in a kiss.

The kiss was unhurried, like they had all the time in the world. And to Louis’ realization, they really did, this time. Now, they were alone, and they had time to relearn each other, reacquaint themselves. 

It didn’t take long before their kissing grew deeper, clutching at each other’s sides. With great effort, Harry pulled away, eyes blown. “We’re never going to get in the bathtub if we keep doing this,” he mumbled breathlessly. 

He was right. “Okay,” Louis said. “Okay,” he repeated again, mind a bit clearer this time, and took a conscious step back. “Run the bath. I’ll wait outside.” 

With a jerky nod, Harry’s eyes followed Louis hungrily until Louis closed the door.

Fuck. Louis took some time to gather his breath, willing himself to calm down. It had always been like this with Harry. Passionate, fast, impossible to stop. Like a drug. 

He had always been unable to resist Harry, that was the thing. Couldn’t stop himself from wanting more. And it wasn’t just the physical attraction. Couldn’t stop himself from wanting the best for Harry, from loving him with everything that he could.

_I never stopped loving you._

Louis let out a choppy chuckle, sinking onto the bed in happy disbelief. This was his life right now. Screw the reality television bit — the biggest development in this new chapter was Harry. This was the bit that was going to stay with him the rest of his life.

A ping came from his pocket, and Louis dug his phone out to find a text from Liam. All it said was, “ _?????”_

Louis sent a smiley face in response. It was all that Liam would need to know that everything had turned out the way it was supposed to be.

How things were supposed to be. They were always supposed to end up together, weren’t they? 

“Water’s ready,” Harry called out, voice echoing from the bathroom. 

Louis padded to the door, deep in thought, and when he peeked around the door frame, he could see that Harry was already in the bathtub. And wait, were those… _rose petals_? 

“How did you —” Louis said, and Harry pointed smugly at a vase on the sink, which now held several empty stems. The soft pink petals littered the water in the jacuzzi, the fragrant smell permeating the air, making everything feel warm and romantic and perfect.

“I’m creative,” Harry said, raising his brows mischievously. God, Louis loved him so much. 

Louis leaned against the door. “Remember our first summer together? When you were nineteen?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, rolling a rose petal between his fingers as he waited for Louis to continue. 

“There was a night when we had just finished a whole bottle of wine,” Louis recalled, feet moving to the bathtub. He propped himself on the edge, and automatically, Harry reached out. As if on instinct, Louis took his hand, playing with Harry’s rings as he continued to speak. An all-encompassing feeling of warmth curled throughout his body.

“We were laying in some field near your mum’s house in Holmes Chapel, and you had prepared a picnic, and we were looking at the stars.” He paused before saying, “You said that we were soulmates. Do you remember that?”

“I do,” Harry said. “I do remember that.” 

At Harry’s sure words, Louis nodded. “It’s so strange, you know.”

“That we both applied for UK’s most rubbish reality television show?” Harry said, filling in the remainder of Louis’ thoughts. “That after all these years, we’re both here now?” 

All of it did sound kind of ridiculous. “Yeah,” Louis said, laughing. “That.” 

Harry laughed too. “Come join me,” he said, rippling the water with his hands. “I covered this whole thing in roses for you.” 

“Damn,” Louis said as he began to toe off his socks. “Proper romantic, this is.”

“Only for you, baby,” Harry said, not hiding the way his gaze swept over Louis hungrily. “God, you’re so hot.”

Louis could feel the heat climbing onto his face. “I only took off my socks.”

Leaning back, Harry winked. “Still hot.” 

“Shut up. Don’t look.” 

“It’s nothing that I didn’t see a few days ago,” Harry said. Still, he covered his eyes respectfully. 

“I know,” Louis replied. “But we’re saving the suspense for later.” As he quickly stripped off the rest of his clothing, Harry continued to make obnoxious, appreciative noises despite the fact that he couldn’t see anything. Louis was in love with an idiot.

“I kind of want to turn on the jets,” Harry admitted once Louis had sunk into the hot water, toes pressed against Harry’s thigh. 

“You do know that there wouldn’t have been a point to the rose petals if we just turned on the jets, right?” Louis could already picture the dismay on Harry’s face as rose petals got sucked away. That would be a nightmare to explain to the hotel staff. “Also, we just went to the spa.” 

Harry ignored Louis’ first comment. “But I didn’t get to enjoy the jacuzzi in the spa,” he said instead, dipping his head close to Louis’ ear, “because I was too distracted by how I wanted to snog you senseless while we were in there.”

Oh. 

Upon seeing how Harry was looking at him, eyes hooded, a deep tingle ran through Louis’ body. He held Harry’s gaze, a twinge of desire unfurling below his belly. “I’m sure we can make up for lost time.”

Slowly, Louis felt a finger trace along his leg. Despite the hot water, Louis shivered. “Yeah?” Harry said, before replacing his touch on Louis’ thigh with his entire hand. 

Fuck. How was it that Harry was still able to turn him on like this, with just a few words? With just a single look? It was stupid how he was still so, undeniably attracted to Harry, in a way that he could never be with anyone else.

Leaning forward, Harry placed both hands on Louis’ thighs, eyes peering up under his eyelashes. Louis wanted to devour him. 

“Fuck, Harry,” Louis rasped, noting how the head of Harry’s cock was already hard, erect and just breaching the surface of the water.

“You can,” Harry said, voice sultry, low. “Fuck me, that is.”

A part of Louis wanted to groan, because _of course_ , Harry was so fucking cheesy. But a bigger part of him felt his body fully react to the words, like they had fanned the flames that had been beginning to build in his gut. Being naked in a bathtub really wasn’t doing anything to quell their sexual frustration, obviously. Louis was fucking glad that they were off the island.

Although he would have normally opted for a smoother response to Harry’s word, it had been nearly a month and a half of frustration. With a low growl in his throat, Louis brought a possessive hand to Harry’s neck, tugging gently. “Yeah?” he asked teasingly. “Do you want me to?”

Eyes fluttering shut, Harry tilted his head, exposing his neck slightly, inviting Louis to do what he wanted. And Louis knew, remembered that this was how Harry had been whenever he wanted to be touched. Louis pressed his fingers a little more gently into Harry’s skin, feeling Harry bend into the touch. 

“We’re getting out of here,” Louis declared, and Harry’s eyelids flitted open. “I know you put thought into this lovely bath, babe,” Louis said, dipping his voice low, “but I really want to get inside you.”

These words were enough for Harry to snap out of his docile state, clambering out of the bathtub before Louis could even blink. Towelling off quickly, Harry escaped to the bedroom without another word. 

Eager. Louis could work with that. 

When Louis stepped out of the bathroom, mostly dry, he had to gulp at the sight. Harry was sitting upright on the bed, hand already circled around his cock, his eyes fixed on Louis — patient, hungry. 

Harry’s gaze drew up and down Louis’ body eagerly. As if he had never seen it before. “Fuck,” he breathed out. “You.”

“Babe,” Louis breathed. “Lube. Do you have it, _fuck,_ tell me you have lube.”

“Luggage,” Harry said, and Louis started for Harry’s bag when he stilled, realizing the implication. 

“For me,” Harry clarified, after seeing Louis’ frozen reaction. “Had to get myself off in the days when I was quarantined before the villa.” 

“Sorry,” Louis said. It was dumb. He had no right to be possessive over whoever Harry had been sleeping with. 

Still, Harry reached out for Louis when he finally located the tube and came to the bed, joining Harry on top of the duvet. “Don’t be,” he said. “For me, it was always you, you know? No matter who I was with.”

The sincerity in Harry’s words was too much for Louis to handle. “Fuck,” Louis said. It was ridiculous, how they were naked and Louis felt as though he was about to cry. “I made you leave, Harry.”

Harry placed a gentle hand around Louis’ waist, burrowing his wet curls into Louis’ shoulder reassuringly. They laid there on the bed for a moment, just breathing each other in.

“There were things we both should’ve done things differently the first time around, even before we officially ended it,”Harry murmured, voice vibrating against Louis’ skin. “Even if we didn’t know it at the time. It’s not your fault at all, sweetheart.”

Louis allowed the words to sink in. “We’re going to do better this time, right?” he asked quietly, feeling Harry nod against his neck before he pulled back. 

The look in Harry’s eyes was steady. “We will. Because now we know what we lost,” Harry said, bringing a hand to Louis’ arm, “and that we can’t bear to lose it again.” 

Harry said his words with an air of certainty, finality like this was _it_. And Louis realized how true the words were. He couldn’t bear to lose Harry again. Not after there had finally been a second chance, a possibility that they could finally work things out, turn the bad into the good. Despite the bumps in their relationship, Louis couldn’t picture life with anyone else. Couldn’t picture anyone else who could fit him as well as Harry could.

“I love you,” Louis said, and Harry responded by drawing Louis in, kissing him. 

For what was supposed to be a romantic declaration, the kiss quickly turned filthy, tongues clashing, hands clambering everywhere. They were naked, after all. And after all this sexual frustration that had been taunting, it felt natural, like it had been bound to happen sooner or later. 

Wrapping Harry’s hair into his hands, Louis felt Harry’s breath catch as he pulled gently. Harry rolled Louis on top of his body, and Louis felt all the points where their skin touched; it felt like little pinpricks of sensation all along his body, like little fires that only Harry could douse. Louis pushed himself up onto his arms, caging Harry against the pillows below him. 

Harry stared back, pupils blown and eyes hooded, like he couldn’t quite believe this was happening. Fuck, against the crisp, white cotton, Harry’s golden skin looked too tempting for Louis to not sink his teeth into. 

Harry’s eyes closed shut as Louis grazed his lips over his neck, a soft ghost of a touch, mindful that Harry’s neck had always been sensitive. Louis felt delight in knowing that that hadn’t changed. Harry was still his, Louis still knew his body like no one else did. He pressed his lips to the bare skin, firmer now, mouthing wet kisses along the length of Harry’s neck. 

“Louis,” Harry whimpered, a broken sound. _Touch me._

There was a part of Louis that wanted to let go of all his instincts, to ravish Harry just how he wanted. But another part of him wanted to go slow, savour _everything_ , tease Harry until he was craving for release, asking Louis for more. To let Louis take his time in treasuring Harry’s body, learning the map of his body again, see where things had changed and where things had stayed exactly the same. It had been two years, after all. Louis had to make it good. 

In response, Louis placed a hand over Harry’s ribcage, sliding it down to his hip bone. He pressed gently, just enough for Harry to still under the pressure of Louis’ fingers. It was the reaction that Louis had been looking for. 

“What do you want, love?” Louis asked, focusing on how Harry’s mouth parted, his breathing barely audible. 

“Your fingers.” Harry’s voice was laced with raspy desperation. Underneath his weight, Louis could feel how Harry’s legs were parting as if on their own accord. “Want them inside.” 

Louis looked away, groaning. God, Louis wanted that too, hell yes, he wanted it. So much. Just the thought of being able to touch, to be _inside_ Harry, sent Louis into a frenzy, the warmth in his groin spreading into the rest of his body. 

Uncapping the lube, he squeezed a generous amount, rubbing the liquid between his fingers to warm it up. Louis lifted up his eyes, gauging Harry’s reaction as he brought a finger between Harry’s legs, gently grazing the puckered mouth of Harry’s entrance. Just lightly, as if he were saying hello. Harry’s eyes were blown, dilated.

Watching Harry had always been one of his favourite things. Harry was so responsive, affected by every touch. Louis loved that it was him who got to make Harry feel this way. Hopefully for the rest of their lives.

Pulling away from Harry’s face, Louis moved to Harry’s chest, placing wet kisses along the skin there as he kept teasing Harry’s hole. He continued along the length of Harry’s body, sucking a mark into Harry’s hip, where his fingers had previously pressed, and Harry gasped. Louis loved how sensitive Harry was.

Harry was probably desperate for one finger now, at least, but Louis wanted to treat him well. Wrapping light fingers around Harry’s cock, Louis dragged his hand along the thick shaft, the tip of his dick already shiny, precum glistening at the top. Louis wanted to taste it, just a little bit. After a few pulls, he brought his lips to lick the wet bead, savouring the taste of salt against his tongue. 

Harry was clearly affected, chest rising heavily as he stared at Louis, unable to speak. It gave Louis enough encouragement to take the head into his mouth, peering up at Harry from beneath his eyelashes. 

Louis knew that him looking up at Harry had always been one of his weaknesses, and by the way Harry’s cock twitched in his mouth, he knew he was correct. Louis tongued the tip and took more of Harry into his mouth, just enough for Harry to loosen even more. To take the remainder of the edge off.

Sure enough, Harry’s head tipped back, easing against the pillow a throaty groan filling the room. Louis pulled off his cock, taking it as a sign to start pressing a wet finger inside. 

“Fuck, babe,” Louis said, feeling the ring of Harry’s hole open around his digit. Even though it was only one finger, Harry fell apart on the sheets, body limp. 

Louis couldn’t take his eyes off him, how beautiful he was. He had almost forgotten how good Harry looked when he was being taken apart like this. “Feel good, love?” Louis asked, his voice low enough to be a whisper.

“Yes,” Harry panted, arching his back when Louis found his prostate, rubbing firmly. “I can take another,” he begged, and Louis slipped in a second finger along with his first. He couldn’t stop himself from crawling up to cover Harry’s mouth with his own, kissing the moans right from his mouth. 

Louis knew it was getting too much when Harry began moaning, eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck,” Harry swore, flexing his back gorgeously when Louis spread his fingers apart. “Oh my God.”

“Babe,” Louis said, mouthing at his jaw. “Are you ready for me?”

“Lou, I’ve been ready for so fucking long,” Harry muttered, throat hitching. “Just get inside me, please.” 

That was an invitation that Louis couldn’t decline. Drawing his fingers out, he crossed the room to retrieve a condom from his wallet. Even though he hadn’t been getting any action, hadn’t expected himself to, he now thanked his past self for having been optimistic. He was glad, and to know that he got to be with _Harry_ again, of all people. This had been the best case scenario.

There had been a time where they didn’t need condoms. And even though Louis didn’t necessarily want to think about Harry’s previous sexual partners, maybe that was a conversation for another time. Fucking him raw would definitely be in the cards in the future, but now. Now Louis was just happy to have this. 

Rolling on the condom, Louis looked at Harry, who was lying on the bed. A fucking beautiful vision, he was. The best thing Louis ever had in his life. The best thing Louis was ever going to have. The thought made his heart swell, and he climbed onto the bed, drawing Harry into a deep kiss.

“You’re the best thing in my life,” he whispered, watching as Harry’s eyes softened. 

Harry raised a hand to Louis’ cheek. “You are too, for me,” he said just as quietly, and Louis bowed down to kiss him again, lining himself up between Harry’s cheeks. Immediately, Harry’s hands flew to Louis’ hips, gripping tightly as Louis nudged inside.

He took his time, feeling every part of Harry as he continued to move, sinking his cock deeper, inch by inch. Shit. This was more than Louis had expected, having Harry so perfect and beautiful and _full_ of him, writhing underneath. He could barely think straight. Was it possible to feel simultaneously so turned on while feeling so much love? 

Once he had fully settled inside, Harry’s eyes were on him, not willing to let go. “You can move,” Harry said, lips red by how much he had been biting them. Red like cherries, probably just as sweet. Louis ducked in for another kiss.

Now he could feel everything, feel the soft cushion of Harry’s lips against him, wet tongue moving in time with how he was thrusting in and out. Everything was so tight, so good, Harry squeezing around him as he dragged his cock in and out in slow increments. 

There’s no doubt that Harry could come from this. He knew Harry could, just based on how he was already a mess underneath him, sweaty curls pressed against his face as he let out slow groans, a beautiful, low melody to Louis’ ears. Louis didn’t think he would ever get tired of this song. 

But Louis had been thinking about this week upon torturous week of Harry walking around him, bare skin taunting Louis everywhere he had gone. He was going to make this fucking worth it. 

He knew what Harry looked like when he was close, knew the way Harry’s head tilted backwards, how his mouth stayed open when he was getting fucked. There was nothing more that Louis wanted than to see Harry come with Louis’ cock inside him. 

He wrapped a hand around Harry, feeling Harry clench around him tighter from the extra stimulation. Together, they panted, rough strokes and uneven thrusting, until Harry was spilling in Louis’ fist. 

Louis could feel the pressure mounting with himself, was about to come when Harry slid a hand up Louis’ neck, getting his attention. “Come in my mouth,” he said, and _yes,_ this was something Louis couldn’t say no to.

Pulling out, Louis tossed the condom aside as he crawled up Harry’s body to angle himself above Harry’s open tongue, willing and pliant. Harry’s tongue curled up against the underside of Louis’ cock, and that was all it took for Louis to finish all over Harry’s face, painting his beautiful golden skin with streaks of white. 

Fuck. Tension releasing from his whole body, Louis sank down onto Harry’s chest, stroking Harry’s hair and taking in his spent face. Blinking languidly, Harry gave him a blissful smile, one that Louis couldn’t help but kiss. 

He couldn’t stop himself from kissing Harry tonight. Not when he had every opportunity to. 

The only thing that convinced him to drag himself away from Harry was that he still had cum all over his face, which required a bit of clean up. Plus, kissing his own cum? Not ideal. 

Louis returned with a wet washcloth from the bathroom, wiping down Harry’s face while Harry giggled in delight. “You’re taking care of me,” Harry said. 

One more wipe, and Louis was done. “Is that really the bare minimum for you?” he asked, tossing the washcloth onto the floor. Probably not the most sanitary, but he couldn’t be damned right now. He plopped down next to Harry, muscles loose, happy. “In that case, the bar is really low. Not sure how I feel about meeting such a shitty standard.”

Turning his head so that his face was directly facing Louis, Harry grinned in response. “But you’re the _best_ cum wiper. That should count for something.”

Harry’s choice of words were something that really left much to be desired. Louis wrinkled his nose. “I hate that you said _cum wiper_.”

Throwing an arm over Louis’ waist, Harry looked all too satisfied with himself. Or maybe that was the look of being satisfied in general. Because that’s what Louis felt, back in his boy’s arms, like everything was right with the world. Like he had started to live again. 

The euphoria he felt now had only ever been present with Harry, Louis realized as he tugged Harry closer, moving Harry’s head so that it was nestled comfortably on Louis’ chest. Having that back in his life was like finding lost joy again. Now that he was living the feeling again, Louis didn’t ever want to lose it. 

Maybe it was too sappy to say out loud, but Louis wanted to say it anyway — right before they inevitably drifted off to sleep. Which would probably be soon. It had been a long fucking twenty four hours, after all. 

“Harry,” Louis said, quiet, even though Harry was right there. But still, Louis felt tentative anyway. Careful, like he wasn’t sure if these words were right for the moment just yet. 

“Yeah?”

Louis looked down at him. “I’m really glad we ended up here,” he admitted. He could feel the wide smile against his chest.

“I’m glad, too.”

\---

It wasn’t until the next morning that Louis realized that they hadn’t televised his exit. He had just _left_ , and the viewers would probably be confused. Two exits in the span of twenty-four hours. That would be a spectacle, for sure.

But Carla had given them the go-ahead to catch the next flight back to the UK, so it wasn’t his problem anymore. Harry’s smile was broad as they drove to the airport terminal, hand reaching for Louis’ in the cab. At the touch, Louis smiled, happily glancing out the window.

Who would’ve thought that this was how he’d be leaving Majorca. When Louis had arrived, he certainly hadn’t thought he would be leaving with someone else, much less someone who he actually loved. 

But here he was, going home with the first and only love of his life. Bringing Harry’s hand to his lips, he placed a kiss there, because he hadn’t yet completed his goal of kissing every inch of Harry’s skin. He figured it wouldn’t be long until he accomplished that particular objective. Harry’s face was shining, happy. Louis didn’t ever want his smile to dim.

He didn’t let go of Harry’s hand as they climbed out of the car, or when they sat down in their seats on the plane. Didn’t even let go when they arrived at Terminal 3, when there were already hordes of fans waiting for them, jaws dropping wide.

When Louis turned to Harry, Harry was already looking at him, gaze assured and calm. Camera shutters and shocked whispers surrounded them like a cacophonous symphony. And it was a lot, but here was Harry, glowing brighter than any of the flashes directed at him. Louis couldn’t look away. 

He felt a soft squeeze around his hand, as gentle as the radiant smile that Harry was giving him. “So what do you think?” Louis asked, keeping his voice low. 

“I think,” Harry said, eyes bright and gleaming, “that I love you.”

Louis looked at him. They had come so far. They really had. And even though they had gotten here, everything wasn’t perfect. Yet. 

In fact, things were far from it. There were still conversations to be had, mistakes to amend. They both knew that they still needed time to heal.

But it was the fact that this time, they were going to work on it, _Louis_ was going to make sure they worked on it. And maybe by this time next year, they’d be one step closer. 

Louis briefly recalled how he had once made a vow to marry Harry. And although it had seemed so far ago, Louis had no doubt that this was what he wanted again. They would make things work. They would live together, get married, maybe even think about children. Maybe they would adopt a cat, finally, and Harry would inevitably become its favourite even though Louis was the one who fed it. 

But that could all wait. Even as the whole nation watched, Louis knew that there was no one else he would rather do it all with. 

So when Louis kissed Harry, to the roar of excited gasps echoing around them, he knew it was the right decision. 

_Harry_ had been the right decision, all along. 

The first right decision on the path to many more. 

**Author's Note:**

> hi! thank you for reading, we hope you enjoyed it!!! we will be posting an epilogue very soon (i bet y'all wanna know who ended up winning love island), so subscribe to this [fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24569413) for updates! (and also subscribe to my [ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nauticalleeds/pseuds/nauticalleeds) if you'd like to read future works.)
> 
> as i am writing this, it is currently 3am and we are deliriously trying to wrap up this fic. it would be great if our hours of endless work could be acknowledged with a kudos, reblog, or a nice comment! perhaps i am asking too much. us authors just want to know that all of this wasn't for nothing. (but we'll be responding! :D) 
> 
> again, thank you! we love you!
> 
> if you enjoyed this, you can reblog the fic post [here](https://nauticalleeds.tumblr.com/post/616415041507442688/somewhere-in-between-lightning-by-nauticalleeds) :-)


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